Batman: The One Who Was Always There
by Titmoff
Summary: Esmeralda, my OC, tells us her story. How she came to meet Bruce Wayne, her nightmarish childhood, how something simple became complicated, how she remained strong and how she almost lost her mind. How she finally found her way to Bruce's heart basically.
1. From the hipsters to that fateful night

_Apart from Esmeralda and her brother, whom I entirely possess (he he), I do not own any other characters in this fanfic. Batman related characters belong to DC I guess. It is to be noted that the Bruce Wayne in this story is mainly inspired by Snyder/Capullo's one. And Amy, well she belongs to herself (sorry Girl, you've always inhabited my fictions, one way or another, since my teenage years, lots of love)._

 _So I started writing this story, as a way for me to make sense of it, to remember the succession of events, to draw the timeline. Since I reserved it only for a personal usage, I thought to use a direct speech style would help me write quicker. So I was basically asking Esmeralda: what's your story? And she was telling it to me. And some 11428 words later, I'm left with a full plot. A lot of it is left to my imagination, though I might stem some one-shots from it. Some moments that could do with a little more detailing. But it is a text you ought to read as if Esmeralda was talking to you._

 _But, to help you picture a clearer image of your surroundings, let's say you've been abducted by the Joker because you're a hero. And you're held in a pit with all the other super heroes. And Alfred Pennyworth. Because of reasons. Joker seems to target the great figures of Gotham city. Since he couldn't find Wayne, he got his butler. You can't use your powers here, the Joker has found a way to disable everyone. Batman is here, the JLA, even the Task Force X. And the trapdoor opens and this girl is thrown in there with you. Pennyworth, Batman, Nightwing and the JLA seem to know her. They let her regain consciousness and, anyway, you don't care, you don't even know her. Though she might look familiar. From TV or something. Time passes by and nobody comes to rescue you lot. Well, everyone that could rescue you is basically in here so… Everyone starts getting seriously bored. This girl, her name is Esmeralda, you heard it over, she seems like she tries to lift everyone's spirit. She chats and jokes and tries to keep everyone… sane it seems. In the course of a conversation, you understand she's Wayne Enterprises CTO. So right under CEO Bruce Wayne. Yeah, you'd heard about that from a distance. OK so that's who she is. You're not impressed. But then Harley Quinn approaches her and asks her how she came to be in that position and hence, be one of Joker's target. And that's when Esmeralda starts sharing her story._

* * *

You want the short version or the long? *grins widely*

So baseline, I was born in Ireland. From two ass-dumb high-IQ superstars who believed our society fucked itself up and didn't see the truth that had been revealed to them through their intelligence. Weirdos. Sociopaths. Oh well, they were kind-hearted alright but they fucked everything up in the end so, not better than the society they ran from. Anyway, they met each other and went like 'Look, we're so smart you and I, let's create a family of highly-skilled people, shut off in the countryside. We'll study how our community can sustain itself and see if intelligence really runs down to genetics and/or education.' and I guess the other one just shrugged and went 'Yeah, that seems decent.' Anyway, why do I care? They took away their closest relatives: brothers, sisters, parents, and settled somewhere in the wild wild. You're gonna tell me Ireland is not so vast but they did find a spot where civilization didn't intrude. Apparently. Somewhere around Uggool, the Lost Valley, these sorts of places. So they built their little village and resumed ruling their survival daily activities. They did start from scratch and we must concede that they were heading the right way. They had six children, of which I was the last. The first one, my brother, was the most clever of us all. So clever he outranked everyone else in the camp. So clever, he was borderline insane. Well, he was insane. But so clever he managed to hide it for a long time. Six years before me, they had Amelia, my big sister, then another boy and then me. On the morning after I was conceived, spoiler alert, my brother slowly started shifting his slough and showing his true face. My mom wasn't even aware she was with child but as soon as she stepped into the common room, my brother went 'Mother, you're bearing my little sister, you'll be under my protection from now on.' like I'm possessing the world, Mister Smartass-Has-It-All. I know this because she wrote it in her diary by the way. I'm not romancing anything, if there's anything to be romanced. I'm just stretching her words. So here go nine months of crazy and crazier. He would follow her everywhere, make sure she would do that, not do this. He'd even patronize her and most surely overprotected her. Well, her. Me as a matter of fact. That's a rare case of attachment disorder. The worst case, from what I've read since then. He believed there was an invisible and super strong bond between us. Like we were meant for each other. And I mean meant for. A not so brotherly love you know. A dementia of which I was the object, obsessive and twisted on every level. Yes I am talking sexual here. So he showed impulsive behaviors, threatening and making everyone feel awkward until the day I was born. Yeah that day, everyone was released from the unease. Because he killed them. Each and every one of them. Well, except Amelia, my big sister. They called her Amy, according to what my Mom wrote. She might have been the least intelligent of the siblings but she was the most sensitive. And she just couldn't stand the edginess in which everyone was. So she ran away and spared herself a bloodbath. Because the guy had trained. The whole family was born with some strong genetics but he had gone the extra mile in his daily tasks, to make sure he would be ready for that fateful day. He overpowered my dad and uncles. My mom had me alone in the worst suffering and he left her in her blood. Took me and locked me in the cellar, in the dark, freshly born. He then proceeded to cut the bodies to pieces and froze them. We did have electricity, before you come asking. On a separate unit my dad had built. Still worrying we could be in the reach of the big bad guys. The new level of stupid. My brother provided me with the goats' milk that he left alive until I didn't need milk anymore. Poor thing. Then I was off to some cannibalism, ladies and gentlemen. Yeah, you got it. I had my little piece of family morning and night. As soon as my teeth could rip and my stomach take the flesh, he would clear his stock. Around 6 months old I guess. I'm vegan now by the way. Didn't see the light of day until I was three. Not long after he had started throwing books in my cellar. He knew I had the IQ to understand the letters. Here's the thing about self-taught geniuses: since our intelligence is inherited from generations and generations of human thinking, we're able to retrace the path the first men followed to create writing and speech. I can't remember the first books. Just that it made my life seem shallow. And then he shoved me my Mom's diary. It made me understand something was really wrong here. And that was also around the time he first raped me. And believe me, he had contained himself. But it all added up. That happened twice. Don't remember well but probably didn't like it too much because I escaped. I can't even remember how. Just the rush of adrenaline. I took the diary, ran into the night and discovered my first dawn just as I reached the suburbs. I was white of skin, half naked, in a terrible state I guess but if for one thing, I knew how to hide in the dark. I remember finding a hoody, some garments from a bin, and jumped in a boat. With every step, I would learn from the passers-by. Their talking, their customs. I was getting familiar to civilization. I've been able to stay unnoticed the two-weeks trip. It must have been a leisure ferry. And boom, I was in the US. The country of the Free.

And yet, I could not be at peace. I was dreading the approach of my brother. There was no way he could know I got away this far. Nobody had seen me get on or off the boat. All the logic in the world told me I was safe from him. Yet I would look at every shadow with fear, live off the garbage and sleep in boxes because I was too scared to call for help, to make myself known. I stayed one bloody week in Portland. Then I decided it'd be safer out the city. So I walked for a long time, crossed fields and forests. Went south for no reason whatsoever. And landed in a wide and wild area where I met a pack of wolves who seemed friendlier than any humans could. Well that was before meeting the Waynes. But the alpha female liked me enough to protect me from the male who finally accepted me in after some blurry events. I say blurry because my past was too heavy for me to bear then and I willingly adopted the animal way of thinking to put all the burden aside. So I don't recall much. Just it was worry-free. So liberating. I spent about three years with them.

So I couldn't have been more than six when Bruce ran into me. And I mean, literally. He was playing hide and seek with his dad. The pack had gone closer to the fringe in search of game. And he literally bumped into me. He was running from his dad. I clearly remember his laugh. It was so giddy. It echoed through the trees and I felt the urge to look for it. And boom! That look on his face. Ah ah! Well mine was probably as surprised. We stayed like that, in complete awe, gaping at each other until his dad burst into view and I fled. But I couldn't forget his laugh. I was sleeping between my wolf-mom's paws, turning over and over, and things were coming back. My species was calling for me you know. And he came back looking for me too, with Mister Wayne. Obviously we ended up finding each other. The pack was happily fulfilled close to the manor so I had some time wandering around the humans. They would walk through the forest to catch a glimpse and I would meet them closer and closer to the out. Until one day I came by myself to their pool. The first time I saw Mom and Alfred. These are so good memories. One thing that strikes me now is how they must have agreed to act it cool if it happened. Because I remember Mom sunbathing and barely lifting her sunglasses to greet me an 'Hello little one' though I was a feral girl you know. And Dad and Bruce were playing in the water and they beamed at me. Alfred, you looked shocked for an instant and resumed your expressionless grin. Ah ah. But I could feel the tension. I mean, I had spent three years as a wolf and I could smell the stress. Not from Bruce. I guess Bruce and I had already bought each other then. But the adults kept alert. I took very small steps very slowly towards the pool as they all resumed to pay me no heed. They wanted me to tame the surroundings by myself you see. And I soon realized there was no danger. The water was fresh, these people wanted me no harm, so this was a good place to be. I had to leave eventually because my pack called. But I would come back often after that, gravitating around the house, listening to their conversations. I would approach every day, closer. And when their attention level had gone down to zero, I even entered the house. One night, oh so many anecdotes, but one night, they were having a reception, like these people do, and Bruce was bored to death so he lingered on the patio. I met him there and he started talking. Fluently you know, like he knew I could understand. I had not spoken a human word for years but it felt good to be spoken to, to be addressed you know. We ended up running together in the forest, for fun. But we heard his parents' calls from afar and I could guess the worry so we went back and, of course, Mr and Mrs. Wayne were clever enough to see no harm had come to their son and just thanked me for entertaining him. Ah ah, entertaining Bruce.

The next step in that relation was the day Bruce was sick. It was autumn and there were guests at the house. I got closer, very casually. Alfred greeted with his all-teeth-out smile and I remember Mom and Dad hastily finding some explanation to my presence. I stood there, looking for Bruce. So Alfred told me he was in his bed with fever and pointed at his upstairs window. I climbed the wall, like a feral kid would do, and got in through the window. The look on the strangers faces! But Bruce was sick. I mean, pallid and sweaty. So I got sort of scared. In the wild, wolves don't really get sick. And if they do, they die quickly. I had been walking barefoot in the snow for three winters and never came out with as much as a flu. Constitution. All this aseptic bullshit we bring our kids up in. Anyways, I knew a plant that we used to eat, alongside raw meat, to help us digest and make us stronger. So without a second thought, I jumped out the window and sprint to get some from the woods. I gave it to Alfred, who recognized it and brewed it. It was just to show me respect obviously. The doctors had given him antibiotics, he was going to be perfectly fine. But it did make me feel useful. And I didn't want to leave his bedside to see if he would get better soon. I wanted to play you know. That was not fun to see him bed bound. So that was the first night I spent inside. I slept at his feet, curled in a ball like my furry relatives do. And I liked it. It was cosy and warm. I think I stayed then. I can't recall if I spent even one more night with the pack. Mr and Mrs Wayne arranged a room for my convenience. It's still my room today in the manor. It was the one right next to Bruce's. We were only separated by the bathroom that we shared for all our youth. But we basically were sleeping in one or the other. Not often did we sleep alone after that night. We both felt protected by the other. Not that I needed protection, I mean, I was protected by my brothers wolves until then. But, I dunno, it felt right to be amongst my own kind. When he woke up and he was not sick anymore, I hugged him tight and called out his name. It was the first time they heard my voice. And I said 'Bruce'.

You have to understand, all this happened in a matter of weeks, maybe three months at the most. My human nature was too strong. I did keep the link to the wolves though. I would leave the house for a run from time to time, brought them food, cuddled, licked their wounds, showed respect to the alpha. But Mr and Mrs Wayne didn't linger to adopt me officially. They invented some story about one of their lost relatives having a hidden child and I came to them and I was orphan and. Nobody really looked into it. So I became Esmeralda Wayne before I was seven. From there, I received the same education Bruce got. These people were so extraordinary. They didn't ever think twice. Blood or not, I was their child and would grow up to be a proud Wayne, which I am today. But, as you might recall, I had this gift of mine, that little intelligence my fucked up genitors gave me. So school was real quick easy for me. Mr Wayne would sit with us in the evening and read us stories from his giant books collection. You should see that library in the manor. I love that room so much. I miss it now that I don't live there anymore. Honest, there must be ten thousand books in there. I would go and pick a book, any book, and read three thousand pages over the weekend. I would get so bored in class, they made me jump to Bruce's grade though he is two years older than me. Soon, the teachers advised my parents to let me have home education, as in having a qualified teacher come at the house to instruct me. But I wouldn't like that. These people were either not smart enough or greedy or whatever. So they left me alone, in peace, and bought me books. I read the whole collection and needed more. I would read. All day. By that time, I had given my Mom's diary to all the family to scan through. Yes, I had kept it. That little item. That reminiscence of who I was. The three adults had read it and I had explained it to Bruce. We had that special relation you know. We would always have something to discuss. I told him everything that happened to me prior our meeting. And he was the only one I felt happy confiding my feelings to. About everything. So they all knew that reading was the only thing I had known from my past life. And they embraced it and let me be myself, sitting at home all day while they were all working. I would also start helping Alfred out because I believed it was not fair he would do all the chores by himself. And though he argued that it was his job alone, he soon gave in because, I'm a stubborn bitch. Before I was ten, I was reading economics books and advising my father about Wayne Enterprises' management. 'Down to business times', we used to call it. We were one hell of a happy lot. Until that fateful night.


	2. From orphan to hermit

Bruce was past twelve so I was about ten. I had not finished Dr. Arkham's PhD thesis so I declined the theater offer. I remember it was about dementia, something along the lines of my brother's sickness. I shared a late dinner with Alfred, since I wanted to finish my reading before. And as we were clearing the table, I had a sudden chest pain. I really think my heart missed a beat. And all my muscles contracted. I think I heard a wolf's howl but that's probably the shock getting to my head. Feeling their death was weird enough. Don't know why my psyche needs to add the howling shit. Anyway, I looked at Alfred and said something like 'Something terrible just happened.' and he believed me. I told him to take the car and drive downtown to where they had been. Which he did, leaving me alone at the manor. I started hearing voices and seeing shapes in the house. My brain was in total apprehension. I knew it happened but I had no tangible facts to hold onto and my very clever brain, that asshole, was losing grip of reality. The loneliness added to that and I decided it'd be better to step outside. So I waited, sit on the staircase, my brothers wolves meeting me there to spend the night in their furs. The connection was not lost, after all. So when Alfred and Bruce came back home, the sun was slowly rising. Alfred got all fussy about me sleeping in the cold but I was really not listening to him then. I could only feel Bruce's pain and that's all that mattered. Understand, I had lost my parents too and I was heartbroken. But I had gone through that and worst. When your parents die, in the natural case of events, you're left with your siblings. The relation you have with them tend to last longer and grow stronger. So I was only worried about Bruce. I told Alfred we would go rest and asked him to have a scolding hot bath and warm food ready for later in the day, when Bruce would wake up. I seemed to know what I was talking about so he did as I bid. We curled under the cover, as we used to, but I hugged him. I hugged him so tight, I wonder how I didn't suffocate him. And I tried to take his nightmares away. I don't know. I was keeping my eyes closed but refrained from sleeping and I was thinking 'Give me your nightmares, give me your nightmares' until I would really see nightmarish things in my head. I don't know if I actually took them from him but he woke up ten hours later, almost refreshed while I felt washed and had to linger in bed for six more hours.

The following days were nothing but heavy. Alfred and I handled as much as we could. Alfred for the adult stuff and me for taking care of Bruce. It makes me shudder. What a horrible thing had happened to us. And already I could feel Bruce's rage growing. I attempted addressing it, reducing it, talking him through it. But it was such an unfair horror. At the funerals, he ran away. I ran after him. And we fell. In one of our secret spot. And he cried. Like a baby. An orphan baby. He cried the tears I had never let out. But I joined that day. That one day, I let him see me cry. I thought I was being mature, keeping things inside. And it's not like I was struggling. I had always kept things inside. Nobody ever showed me how to express feelings. I had built that idea myself that showing happiness brings you good but showing sadness, weakness only brings you bad. Over the following weeks, I became oblivious to how this trait of mine was affecting Bruce. I understand now though. It made him feel weak. I was younger than him. I was a girl. Bruce's not exactly the sexist kind but, well, it was twenty five years ago. I could hold myself together while he only felt devastation and despair. Slowly, he grew detached. Not from me. But from everything else. The six next years, we grew closer and closer. He wanted to study. Study hard. We travelled to Harvard, Cambridge, the best universities. We past our diplomas together. For me, it was easy, without undermining anything or anyone. So I helped him through it. We were kind of closing ourselves in a bubble. All along, I thought I was carrying out our parents' will: growing us up into Wayne Enterprises' future. You know, we needed to pick up their fight for Gotham and make it the beautiful city they were trying to build. In my head, it was limpid: together, the two of us, against all the criminality, the poverty. But Bruce had other plans.

On his eighteenth birthday, we threw a massive party. We were Waynes after all. There are no private celebration in this world. I hate that. As much as Bruce did. Or does, I don't know. It all went very well. People would joke about we should get married and all sorts of crap. I mean. It's not like I never thought about it. He was eighteen, I was sixteen, he had grown into a quite handsome man, it must be noted. But while I would have welcomed the idea I think, he had disengaged from it quite clearly. Fair enough. Not like I cared. We drunk that night. Too much I guess. When the last guests would not leave, we ran off. In our secret spot. And… Not that it's any of your business. But he finally mentioned to me this inferiority he felt towards me. That he was weaker than me. Well, that he felt weaker than me. I still don't think he was but one's weakness must only be assessed by oneself. So I've come to learn. But then he served me some kind of bullshit based on 'I don't have what it takes to make you happy' blah blah, it outraged me. I got notably pissed off. I hate this manly talk about how they should make women happy. We can make ourselves happy, you know! I don't need anyone to give me what I need. I can get it myself! That he felt frailer than me is one thing. One thing I accept. But that you should reject me because you think you're not good enough for me. It's plain stupid. Like, stupider. I told him it was my business to chose who's good enough for me, certainly not his and I walked home. He snuggled to me later in the night and in the morning, he was gone. With my massive hangover, it's not like I had a chance to hear him pack his stuff and step out. So I woke up to find Alfred regretfully telling me 'Master Bruce has left the premises' and at first I thought 'Good' because better have him off finding his strength than brooding over here. But that was the first two months.

So… Seven years later. Yeah, you heard it right. Seven. Fucking. Long. Lonely. Years. But what have I done during these seven years right? Well I kept on educating myself. I took care of Wayne Enterprises, in the name of my lost brother, declared dead too soon. Generally, I followed my Mom's steps. She wanted to build schools, help the homeless. I took all Bruce's clothes and went in the streets myself to chat with the poor people of Gotham, hand them the outfits Bruce would never wear again. Oh I knew he was not dead. But I also knew that he would come back… bigger than his eighteen years old self. So anyway, these trousers and shirts were obsolete. I created as many job positions as I could to help people get off the streets. Built reinsertion complexes, education centers, took part into every urban project that would end up on my desk. I think I made my parents proud. Worked hard for that. On a personal level, well, I was not really giving any importance to that level to be fair. Between sixteen and twenty-three are the years you start going out with friends, flirting around with boys, or girls. Finding yourself. I was highly advanced obviously. Too mature for these games. I knew who I was, I knew what I had to do and I knew what I was waiting for. Who I was waiting for. So I politely declined the first hundred invitations to go out and 'have fun'. Less politely the next hundreds ones. And kept my head full of work. I was successful enough the first years. But it was nagging at me. And I wanted it off. I wanted to be far as well actually. Not going after Bruce. But I was missing some pieces there and I'm sure you can't even figure out which.

So, just like that, I decided to travel to Ireland. And here you get it. I trekked through the Lost Valley to find the stone house I had caught a glimpse of as I ran away. Oh I found it alright. In a pile of pebbles and apparent signs of fire. No one in sight, dead or alive. All traces had been wiped out, either by him or by other adventurers like me. Nothing to relate to. But I'm so clever you know. I spent some months on it, analyzing the paper from my Mom's diary, the ink, the writing, the dates, cross-checking the events, clever clever clever. Got myself a name, which I don't like. Wayne's far better. But most importantly, found my sister. You know, the one that ran away. She told me later she could see the disaster coming but no-one would listen to her. She was only six after all. She left and my parents did nothing to find her because, she had gone back to the society you see, she was non existant to them anymore. Some good parenting there, I tell you. So I traced her down. She was going under the name Lee. Which gives Amy Lee. And yes, I'm talking about that singer. Alfred took me to one of her concerts and I waited for her outside. When our eyes met, it was an evidence. Right away, she knew. We crashed into each others' arms and for fours years, I believed I was whole again. I told her, she told me and soon I filled the void left by Bruce. I was still waiting for him of course. My heart is that big that I could have held them both in there. But though I was never alone because I always had Alfred *winks towards him*, I needed that relation in my life. That one person I can entrust with everything. Bruce had filled that void after the wolves and had set my standards so high. Too high. But Amy, she met them, easy. She was my moon. We shared a fusional sisterhood. But so short. Her beginnings had been close as rough as mine. A six years old in the wild. She had been picked up by some orphanage somewhere, adopted by a sweet family of artists where she found her place, started writing out her dark memories of our brother and the pain he had caused her. She had the sweet voice you all know and she soon rose to fame, moved to US and formed Evanescence, with that guy, Ben. He was a childhood friend and she had loved him for long. But this son of a bitch. He played with her. Gave her affection and then abruptly rejected her. Classic case of bipolarism doubled with assholeness. I tried to be her defense and always offered her a safe place when he would be mean to her. But his intentions being so nasty, he soon found the best way to fuck it all up. He fell in love with me. Or so he told Amy. So she was left between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, I was her salvation. On the other, I was the cause of her pain. She got angry at me. Mad angry. I took it in the face. I had nothing to defend myself from, I hadn't done anything wrong. I left her scream out her filth on me without so much as a flinch. Until she got sick of my face and threw me out. I came back to the mansion, a tiny bit affected but knowing she would see reason soon and come back to the safety of my arms. I waited three days. And grew worried. I told Alfred, poor Alfred, sorry again, I would go back there and might stay with her for some time. I found her dead. She had broken the wall mirror in the bathroom and had cut her wrists with the shards, staring at her blood flow out of her veins in the water of the bath. I swear to God. I swear that if I could have been more broken than then, I might have picked up a shard myself and follow her. I remember crying, without a sound, taking her out of the water and holding her close. And when there was no salty water left in my body, I started rocking her. Apparently I stayed two weeks in the flat. From the proves I gathered, I must have been in an after traumatic distress. I acted as if she was still alive, fooling myself. I would move her corpse, dress her. Even prepare food for both of us. As if. She entered an advanced stage of decay. And one morning, I felt the same sort of sensation as when I saw Mr and Mrs Wayne's murder. We were on the sofa. Well, I was on the sofa, watching TV, and I 'saw' that Bruce was in a plane. Of course, I learnt afterwards he had taken a lot of planes while he was away. But I could clearly understand he was coming back. Far from outbursting my joy, the realization hit me. I turned my head and saw, really saw, the corpse at the other end of the sofa. It's like I had been asleep and I just awoke. And got hit by a truck right then. I put her back in the tub, called the cops and lied I just found her like that. There was no witness, no proof otherwise, no-one to sue so no investigation to be had. I got away with it. But my heart certainly didn't. I shamefully drove back home and crashed in Alfred's arms. Only to tell him Bruce would be back shortly and that I needed to gather myself. And to do it quickly.


	3. From comeback to here and now

He came back the afternoon of the day we buried Amy. And I asked Alfred to promise me. Not to tell him anything. I don't know why. I am still not sure. I didn't want him to worry I guess. So I buried my feelings with her and as he stepped in the great hall, I showed nothing but delight. Oh don't go believe I faked it. No the joy was real and it felt so good. But I was still fooling myself. Blanking my brain out. I believe I wanted Bruce to feel so welcomed that he would never leave ever again. I jumped in his arms and I felt hugged back and, blimey, that was the best feeling in the world. Especially since he gained up some pounds. You know, muscles. He he, anyways. And there the funny part of Bruce's return: I leaned in to kiss him, you know like, a kiss, and he turned that into kissing me on the forehead. And there, ding, I heard the bell of something-is-wrong ringing. I must have looked confused but he grinned at me like nothing happened. He shook Alfred's hand and resumed climbing the stairs to his room while I was left in awe. But not the good kind. I couldn't help but shout at him something like 'So you lacked strength but now you lack conscience?', in retaliation of our last conversation in our… secret spot. Taking off right where we left it. He replied that he needed more time, basically. In substance, he was saying it was a timing issue. So I took it that seven long fucking lonely years were yet not enough, OK, can take that, and I tried to champ at the bit. But then the guy enters my room like there's no tomorrow, I'm reading you see, and he's just taken a shower, and he's only wearing his pants, and he's like, you know, hot, right? And I've been holding everything up for seven years. I mean, I'm a young woman. I mean, you know what I mean? Like my hormones are skyrocketing. I'm seriously on the brink of just, I dunno, unholy womanly things for Christ's sake! And he's standing there, sheepish, not getting it. Grrrrr. Anyway he asks me what's wrong with his clothes. Yeah, as I told you, I gave them to the homeless and replaced with the strict necessary. But I couldn't know he would be so… buff you know. So the trousers were fitting more or less but the shirts… not really. Are you picturing the thing? I just buried my sister, the guy comes back after seven years, rejects me - yeah he did, is all innocent-looking when he walks halk-naked in my room… Well, I am very proud of myself because I managed to explain him, almost serenely, he understood I think and I took some time off to go distribute his again useless clothes in the streets of Gotham. Alfred managed to find some of Dad's clothes that fit him. Mr Wayne was broad of shoulders as I recall. It calmed my nerves, gave some time for Bruce to catch up with Alfred and reminded me of what's really important: Gotham.

So when I came back home and we casually started avoiding the subject of 'us', if there was ever such a subject, we appeared to agree on the Gotham matter. We concentrated on that. Because at that moment, all I needed was to feel in sync with him. We slowly but surely caught up over the following days. But I never got my Bruce back. He was concerned for Gotham alright. But it kinda ate him up. We agreed on everything at bottom. But practically, our visions drastically differed. He didn't discuss the choices I had made for Wayne Enterprises during his absence, thank God, because I think I would have killed him. Literally. He probably would have outweighed me but I would have bitten a bit off his perfect face. Based on the fact that we diverged on how to help Gotham, I resumed my way and he started his from scratch since he had been absent so long. He didn't want us to disclose his return so we did keep it for us. It soon became obvious he needed help for his scheme. So… Weak and stupid as I am, I did give a hand, along with Alfred, not quite sure what to make of all this. He was glad for his Master's return, right Alfred? But it didn't get how it'd expected. I feel you, Al. So Bruce got his feet in the ladder, I developed the background of his project and Alfred was learning from me. Meaning that, soon enough, Bruce asked me to automate the programs I had implemented. Yeah, I am a coder. Gotta problem? So I did automate them. In the meantime, Bruce comes back home with a cute thirteen years old boy and tells me he's adopting him. And I'm like 'Seriously?'. Frankly, I did't know where this was going but definitely not where I had hoped it would. Bruce was so living his life without consideration whatsoever of what others might want or think of it. Dick and I got along right away though. That's not the kid that was the problem. He had lost his parents, so Bruce told me, in murderous conditions, that gave a common ground to everyone in the mansion. 'The house of the orphans'. Nice. We very quickly bonded. I saw in him a mini-Bruce at first. He was a lot like him, to be honest. It was weird. We developed a relationship where I would jump from mother to sister to friend. I was trying to bring up that kid but also to find in him what Bruce wouldn't give me anymore. In that, I think I've never been closer to anyone but Dick. He was… He is my everything. Will always be. In a way that is purely indescribable.

And that's where Bruce dropped me. Completely. And let's face it, coldly. Because you need to hear this: by then, his return had been officialized, he had taken the reins of Wayne Enterprises, casting his shadow over everything I had done. Not that I cared, oh no, that's what I wanted. For him to receive the praises, let me work in his shadows, fine with me. But he was playing that celebrity role. I dunno. He would go out. Do the things I had forbidden myself to do in his absence. He went to parties and brought back girls. I was like 'Really? Really you're going there?'. I think I was stuck in this no-feeling-land where I was tired of being trampled upon, not even scared of what could come next because seriously, I had nothing left to lose, losing any bit of hope I could have held onto. For Bruce and I, I mean. If not for Dick and Alfred, I'm still not sure what I would have done that night. Yeah because one night, not only do I realize the automation of my program is complete, that Alfred knows everything he needs to know and that Dick even learnt it all so nobody needs me here on a technical level let's say. But Bruce comes back home with a… slut, I'm sorry, I've got to say it, she was a big stinky whore that one. And he's so drunk that he misses - how can you do that seriously? - his room and comes crashing in mine. They literally fell on my bed, on me. And they were all, you know, doing their thing. So I obviously said something. And the bitch goes like 'Oh c'mon, there's plenty of rooms in here, just get your ass out this one, it's ours'. Oh. My. God. Like, oh my God. Can you imagine? I went berserk. Inside. Pffff there was nothing to say really. I was of strictly no use around here. So I gathered my stuff and I left.

I crashed in our downtown flat. Yeah Wayne family owns several appartments, here and there in Gotham. I don't like the idea of holding accommodations that could be useful to someone else but it's a bigger thing than that. We buy old places, we spruce them up and then put them back on the market at a lower price. I tended to selecting the most deserving people for the past years. So I just crashed in whatever one we owned at the time. It was still undergoing renovation, not feeling quite like home, but I was closer to the office and further from Bruce. And I survived. You know. Feeling a bit lonely. I was missing Alfred and Dick a lot. But they'd come to visit. Dick would even stay overnight with me more and more often. Alfred would cook me his succulent vegan quiche. That sounds fancy but nothing compared to the taste. Like you don't know until you've had it. And Bruce… Well, he popped up at the office the day after his 'mistake'. I had warned my assistant - a great girl I picked up from the Narrows, Elsa, I call her Zaza - and asked her to not let him in. But I heard him in the corridor going all 'What's the name of your employer Miss? Wayne, right. What's my name? You got it. So let me in!" gna gna gna Mister-Big-Booty-Boss. He stormed like seriously, as if I was the one at fault you know. I just kept on working. I'm really good at pretending I don't see or hear what's around me. I close myself in that concentration bubble. My brain still processes and I can consult later, a bit like a surveillance camera. But at that moment, he was non existant. He apologized. Oh yes, he did. But his tone was nothing but contempt. I didn't as much as open my mouth. He's not a great talker either anyway. So he stood there, waiting for a reaction. He dared say I was overreacting. I almost flinched but I didn't. Wouldn't give him that victory. He must have stood there, I dunno, ten minutes before understanding the bridge was broken. Well, I think he didn't realize how much pain he had caused me since he was back. And for one thing, I can't blame him entirely. After all, I didn't tell him about Amy and we didn't really have an open-heart discussion about his return and his… project for the city you know. I thought it was unnecessary because if he couldn't guess how I was feeling, like he used to when we were children, then there was no use. So he just exhaled, again like I was being stubborn - well maybe I was but, yeah I was - and said something like 'If you ever need me, you know where to find me.' and he left. I knew where to find him alright.

So of course, I kept on working for Wayne Ent. I was still a Wayne. It didn't change that. So it was awkward at times. We would meet in the labs, in receptions. I would try to be professional and if I really had to talk to him, I would, with an extremely flat, maybe cold voice but, we managed to head Gotham the way we both wanted I guess. Bilaterally. Whenever I could avoid him though, I really did. Now that I think of it, he didn't. I mean, he was not trying to be where I was, on purpose you know. But he was doing his thing, not minding if I would be around. I guess I saw indifference in that. And it still ached. And I felt stupid for aching. And I was trying to fight the feeling. What I would have given to stop caring. But anyway, there was a lot going on and that kept my focus elsewhere, which was good. Well, or not. Gotham development was going well, also because the Batman was well established by then and the scum was being cleared and we, as an enterprise, were leaders in urban renovation. But that brought a lot of attention onto us. Onto me in particular. Bruce would show up to grab the donators' checks, occasionally answering journalists' questions. If she was hot and doable. Duh. But I really became their front face. Running around town to present the projects, supervise constructions, seeking the Police whenever corruption would as much as surface. And corrupted folk didn't like me so much. And I seemed a far easier target than Batman you know. I have some training. I can handle myself. Against two or three guys. But at some point, that did become a problem. And also, since I was living by myself and now emotionally totally free, I started going out, experiencing what a normal girl of my age's life should be. I made friends. And where you make friends, you make enemies. I started revolving in the music milieu and industry. Amy had left a big hole there. Her suicide had shocked and she had been raised to an iconic figure. I followed her steps. I was missing her badly and I felt this could mend all these gaps in my bloody existence. So I sort of had these two public faces, being targeted for one, for the other, for no reason. Gotham was backlashing at me. Big time. Over the five years following my moving downtown, I lived in eight different flats. They either exploded from criminal attempts or I had to put them off my scent. For a wolf, that's ironic. Speaking of wolves, I did grant myself some vacations now and then. I would go back to my forest, strip down and live like a beast for a week or two. That was refreshing. I would shut my brain off, felt protected within the pack. So when things turned from bad to worse, I did return to town with two brother wolves. That gave me quite the reputation in the circles of Gotham. Dick nicknamed me Faolan. It comes from Gaelic, old Irish. And it means 'little wolf'. I like that nickname. But, before you try it, be aware he's the only one whom I accept it from, you're warned.

And speaking of Richard. He was nineteen I think when he left Bruce as well. And now, I'm the one with the issues right? From what I understood, he got tired of Bruce's coldness. Well, that's funny, isn't it? Same as me: he agrees with the general plan for Gotham, we all want the city to regrow from its ashes, but that doesn't imply we must forget ourselves and become, you know, someone else. And I guess, Dick had learnt everything he could and wanted to stand on his own two feet. Alfred told me he also reproached him what he did to me. But that's none of my business. So, one night, he shows up at my door, asks if he can bunk here until he finds something of his own. Being honest, he could have gone to any other Waynes flat. He's family after all. But being as close as we were and knowing I had gone through the ordeal, he needed me. And it felt good to have him around. Like, really good. I did feel whole for the first time in a long time. Since Amy, really. We started working together. If you don't know, Dick is from a circus family. His parents were very famous acrobats. So the guy's got some artistic and show sense. Which was opportune since I needed a dancer for my show. Music industry, remember? I was producing myself and others, giving concerts, still trying to contribute to Gotham life, arts level. Business woman the day, entertainer the night, trying not to sleep too much. Sleep giving my brain too much time to ponder. Dick had a night job that kept him away quite a lot but we would be on stage every evening. I felt safe with him around. And I'm not ashamed to say that we started dating. To be fair, to myself, I was ashamed at first. Reluctant, even. I mean, I felt the unease you're probably feeling too. I was a substitute mother for the kid. Our relation was ever so hybrid. But in the end, I am 'only' ten years older than him you know. And he is something. The last missing step, the one I kept postponing, was to address that obvious physical attraction. Well he took that step I admit. He's got that much guts. One day we had that talk where he asked me why I kept pushing him away. I was totally oblivious to the real meaning of his affections - and he was delightfully affectionate, trust me - so that startled me. My initial answer was what you're thinking of, you know: the age gap, the influence I had on him. But he wouldn't have it. So the tone turned up and I did a good old Bruce Wayne. That's how I call a mistake where you hurt someone you love, using what they entrusted you with. I went like 'Dude, the first time Bruce kissed me, you weren't even born!". I facepalm now but I really didn't think before talking on that one. It was true. When we were maybe twelve, thirteen, we went running in the wild, Bruce and I. And the classic scene where we found a slope and thought it would be funny to roll it down and I ended up on top of him and gave him a smooch. Well, that happened. Disgusting, I know. Wishy-washy. But that should have remained a memory. Instead Dick took it right in the jaws. But he's a strong lad. You know what he did? He said 'Oh yeah?', he kissed me, like it ain't no thing, the most passionate kiss I had had so far, and Sir Grayson punctuated it with 'And did he ever kiss you like this?' with a piercing blue stare. Impudent Coilean. That's how I call him. Well, the answer was no. And he's filling my life with laughter for almost three beautiful years now.

In the meantime, I don't know if you'd heard, but Bruce had gone missing. Don't ask me where he'd gone. Probably left with a blonde, or some more travelling the world in case he missed a spot the first time. Wayne Enterprises needed some maintaining so we shared the load. But Dick took the heaviest part on him. We still suffered from recurrent attacks and vendettas. The weird and the psychotic unleashed from hell. It was impressive. Crazier and crazier and the assaults were more and more personal. I got my ass saved by the Batman here more than once. And that little bird Nightwing too *winks to him*. Nice guys. A little broody but hey, they did prevent me from dying on more than one occasion. What? Oh no it didn't really affect me, that Bruce was lost. I mean, he was still my brother. Legally. So I would at least play pretend. But he is a big, big big guy. And he had left before. Seven years. Still recalled. So I was not worrying. Being with Dick subsides a lot of anger towards him. Not all of it but I am pacified and I can now talk about it without getting itchy. You know, the five steps of mourning, this pile of crap. Bruce came back some weeks ago. Before the Joker went on his rampage. I went to check on him. Maybe, I wanted him to know that I was happy now, with Dick. I dunno. Might have been an unconscious taunting too. He was a little taken aback. Guess he didn't see that one coming. I left him speechless but for an irritating doubting of the solidity of our couple. And that, of course, enraged me. Who better than Bruce can arouse that annoyance? Because that's what Bruce Wayne does to me: he makes me question myself so that I'm always better. He turns that bad horrible nagging of his into a wonderful rebirth of oneself. Fuck this man. I love him. Shit. So I left the premises a bit disorientated and that's when Jack caught me and… that's how I got here! Tadaaa!


	4. The Atfer-Joker-pit

I wake up in the car. From a quick glance around, I understand this is the batmobile. That makes sense. Burning these pieces of my heart left me unconscious but allowed the smallest breech in Joker's bunker. I guess Supes must have jumped in. Maybe Amy has been so effective as to deactivate the anti-matter shell surrounding the pit. From there, even the Flash could have put us all to safety. But I remember, as I felt the blood run from my nose and ears and my sight become blurry, seeing Bruce run towards me, calling my name. So he must have picked me up. From my injuries, it has been clear enough my brain was not in its healthiest condition so the altitude of the plane was prohibited. Since Damian got there with the car and the rest of the family, earlier, with the plane, Bruce must have told them to fly back to the batcave. And I am stuck in here with him now. Not that, it's sooo bad you know. During these three weeks, we all have shared a lot of intimacy. Against our own will, yes, but still. That did bring us together in the end. At least, I worked hard for that. When I fought over the drugs the Joker administered me to get me in the pit, it became quickly obvious the ambiance was less than cheerful. I hate when people fight. Not that I avoid fights. No, I'm good at arguments, he he, the thrill of having the last word. No but these powerful people, stuck in a powerless state, in a confined place... You should have seen the miserable look on Cyborg's face. Well, I've been able to lift everyone's spirit I hope. In the end, we were chatting and laughing. I thought that would outrage the Joker but, it didn't. And that's around that time I understood something was off. When he addressed me for the eighth time, I asked Batman if he ever addressed them before I was thrown in there. He said no. So I understood it had to do with me. Three weeks. The whole world at hand because all the super heroes were locked here. Just for me. Jack, you shouldn't have gone to that extent. Seriously man, you're insane. Ah ah. You are. And you wanted me to become as well. To join you. You didn't want me to join you because I was compelled to do so, by one of your crazy schemes. No, you wanted me to go insane. I must admit, if I had, I would probably have sided with you in the end. I guess. It would have made sense. In a crazy frame of reference. But you see, dear clown, I can't. I wished I could, so many times. It would have freed me from much pain. But my brain. It always made sure I would stay sane. Always made sure I would not lose that grip. And I didn't expect to convince you Jack. You're too crazy to be reasoned with. But these projections of my soul, they grew very strong with the time. And they were the end of you.

Gosh, I've been looking out this window for an eternity. It's funny. I know this car is fast of the fastest but, when you're inside, you feel so secure, like in a train. And it doesn't seem to go so fast after all. Damn. Bruce has looked my way. I heard him turn his head. Dammit dammit dammit. I really don't want to talk now. Oh and I'm so tired. I can feel my brood. Dude, seriously, I work so hard at showing my best smiling face all the time. Now it's like all my muscles are blurp. I can't hold my features up for Christ's sake. I don't want him to see me this way. Please, just don't look at me. And PLEASE don't start talking. Don't ask questions. Not now.

SCREEEEEEEEE

Why did he brake? Of course, I turned my head. That was so sudden. Took me aback. What's that? He's... No! Can it be tears welling up in Bruce Wayne's eyes? Is that really the guy who chose Batman over me, strength over despair, brood over tears? Surprising as it is, I cannot stand to see him like that. I mean, we grew up together for God's sake! He's my brother. At least, legally. And these days, with Dick comforting and cheering me up and all, I feel more inclined to, say, not think about what he's put me through. I'm far from forgiving, obviously. But... Damn, I want to reach out. He's gritting his teeth. Is he angry or sad? I can't tell. Why can't I tell? Shit, Esme, stop thinking too much! Spare your brain, it's been through a lot just now.

I reach out my hand and lay it on his forearm.

\- "Bruce?", he grits his teeth harder, I get quite worried by now, "Bruce, are you OK?"

He darts like a jack-in-the-box (ironically). And sure enough, he locks my mouth to his, his strong hand on the back of my head. I. Didn't. See. That. Coming. Like, from nowhere! What the hell he thinks he's doing? Esme, you just asked your brain to shut down. Gosh, is that really his tongue there? Man, we've not brushed our teeth for, like, three weeks. Why am I thinking about that now? I want this. No. I wanted this for so long. Now it's... too late. Bruce, it's too late. Get off me!

And he does. Slowly. And I can't help thinking it was too short. He lowers his eyes. Oh, don't think you'll get away with it. I slap his perfect jaw. Bam! Who do you think I am? You played with me Bruce. That seeing me near death brought your feelings back is all very good. But your timing is shit.

We stare at each other for some long minutes. He doesn't look surprised. I guess he half expected my reaction. He probably hoped for none at all but, I'm Irish you know. Whatever. I don't care what he's mulling over. He's always mulling over. Damn your brain. Damn mine. Just hit the road already! I want to be far from now.

That's just what he does.

The bonnet is half open over our head that I'm already jumping out of that damn car. I am glad to see everybody is safely waiting for us in the batcave. Dick, Damian, Tim and... Alfred. Oh that's the face that makes me feel securely home. Even see smiles as I scan around. Warms my heart. But I'm thinking about one thing and one thing only. I stride towards my boyfriend and grab his head to take it down to my lips. Three weeks. Being together in that pit for three weeks, having to pretend we didn't know each other because he donned that bloody Nightwing mask. Fuck, that has been hard! And I'm weighing my words. Not like the guy's scalding hot, you know. I mean. Have you met him? You probably haven't though. Well, he's... one of a kind. Rock-built, handsome features, angelic face, melting kindest smile. And I couldn't as much as touch him there. So now I'm unleashing all hell of passion. This and... OK, that's not right but... Bruce is watching. And I want to remind him that he shouldn't have done what he did on the way here. I'm not single godammit! So I hold my breath -that I know fetid- and I frenchkiss that motherfucker like there's no tomorrow. I hardly hear Alfred sending the kids away, claiming the need of an urgent shower session, and feel Dick's arms embracing me back. I second our kiss, now intertwining my fingers in his thick hair. And by the time we part, I want just another thing.

\- "Should we have that shower too then? I know a way to make our use of the bathroom twice as effective." I did purr that one out, with a taunting gaze that left no place for misinterpretation. I feel Alfred's amusement but Bruce breaks everything, as he often does.

\- "Not just now.", he orders. I give him the quizzical stare. Not the 'what are you talking about' sort of quizzical. The 'are you seriously messing with me dude' sort of quizzical. "You have to give us an explanation of what happened in that pit.", he adds.

I just gape now. I really can't process what he is asking of me.

\- "Everybody is out and sound. I think you should just be grateful of that for now.", I hear myself respond. I grab Dick's wrist and start pulling him towards the metallic staircase leading up to the manor. I feel a moment of resistance. I can guess he is shrugging at Bruce. Why does he give him so much importance? If he knew... But he soon gives up. I hear the stirring and as I lay my hand upon the hand rail, Bruce's one is on it. Not in a nice or compassionate way but in a drastically requiring way. He squeezes it and starts dragging me back to the cave floor. In the wheeling movement, I unsheathe one hell of a punch and thrust it right in his teeth, thus letting go of Dick's hand. He is asking too much of me. And my whole body goes into an adrenaline rush. I am exhausted, I am psychologically on-the-edge and, most of all, I am emotionally borderline.

\- "You want a third one today Bruce?", I scream at the top of my lungs, the sardony bouncing off the walls around us.

\- "What is wrong with you?", he shouts back, genuinely incredulous.

I take half a minute to pant it out, but my thoughts are not getting in order.

\- "You have no idea what I sacrificed today. No fucking idea!", I thought I had screamed my previous sentence. But this one is some decibels louder.

And suddenly, all seems blurry. Water is coming to my eyes. It's hitting me. The realization is dropping like my fist dropped on Bruce's cheek. I frantically look around, passing over Dick's and Alfred's startled faces. Peer in the dark corners, gaze in the light of the computer screens, my eyes not able to focus on anything. Because there is nothing to focus on. I come back to Alfred's stare but all I can make out of it is some fuzzy contours.

\- "Alfred, they're gone.", I'm past recognizing his concern or grief or sadness or whatever. "They're gone, they're all gone.", I repeat, "I can't see them anymore."

My knees are letting go of me. But alfred comes closer. And I hear his whisper.

\- "I know miss Esmeralda. I know."

And he hugs me. I didn't known I needed his hug so bad until he is actually supporting me from falling to the ground. I burry my head in his shoulder and finally, finally, let myself cry out. And I mean, I cry. Like a baby. I am nothing but sobs and snots. I am making that ridiculous loud noise when I'm trying to catch my breath between the spasms. His dirty shirt is now the temple of my sorrow. I'm talking mucus. That reminds me, in the void that is now inhabiting my brain, of that time we fell in that cave. A lifetime ago. Two lifetimes ago. Right after the funerals of Mom and Dad. Bruce had fled and was dashing through the trees. I followed him easily, obviously. Wolf training. But the wooden boards snapped under his feet and my velocity was such I couldn't hold to anything. We fell down the well. Hard on our face. I grabbed him, my big brother, my selflessness. And he started crying out. Just as I am doing now. And I joined him. I think they were my first ever tears. He didn't really notice since he was indulging himself into mourning then. But that cry, now I am understanding. It was the redemption cry. The cry of the end of the world. When you have nothing else, no other solution but to let go of the virtual barricade you've built.

I was slowly stepping up my game but Dick decided to stroke my hair. To let me know he's here too I guess. And that doubles the sobbing. But the worst is when I feel Bruce's pat on my shoulder. Man! Triple sob! Score! If Alfred's shirt was good for garbage a while ago, I think it should now be burnt. But you know what? In that madness, in that terrible and profound despair, I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Yes because these three men, if nothing else, are my world. I have fooled myself with these ghosts, with the past. Ever looking back. But they are pointing forward. And I finally am looking in that direction too. Who am I to be pitied? Batman, Nightwing and Alfred Pennyworth, please, watching and caring for me? No. If I ever needed these ghosts, I don't anymore. And everything is going to be okay.

I push my face out of their hug as the convulsions recede. Look up. See Richard's smile right behind Alfred's. Can't help but faintly smile back. Bruce's hand is still on my shoulder as he says:

\- "Go have your shower, we'll talk after."

And I realize what it costs him. That man is certainly full of empathy but he is dry of forgiveness. And one thing he would not forgive, above all, is weakness. And he has known me as his inspiration in that matter. I mean, he went and trained because he felt lesser than me for God's sake. He became Batman because I showed more toughness than he ever had. And in a matter of a few hours, he saw me shattering in a thousand pieces. At the bottom of that pit first and now here, comprehending I will not be able to lean on disillusions to handle my everyday pains anymore. And he deliberately lets me... rest? Do you understand? He lets go, a tiny bit, of his coldness and gives me the authorization to gather myself, thus postponing his investigation. In that instant, I am really seeing the difference. He has changed. I wouldn't say he has softened. God forbids. But he's stretching a hand out to me. And you know what? I take it gladly.

\- "Thank you.", I mutter as Alfred lets me regain use of my legs and Dick holds his arm out for me to lean on to get up the stairs. I don't turn to look at him. I know he's already walking back to his console. But that bond I had thought severed, forever, there in that instant, it appears to me it had never been broken.


	5. Two talks amongst others

\- "Master Bruce? Should I serve dinner in the lounge or the sitting room?"

Good old Alfred. Back in his butler's role already. Even had time to don a clean shirt. How long did I stay downstairs? The cave's bathroom sure is less practical than upstairs', and I didn't get much hot water since we all took our shower at the same time, but I must have pondered a little too long.

\- "Is everyone ready?

\- Hum… We're still waiting for Miss Esmeralda and Master Dick. But surely we can expect them shortly…", I hear the embarrassment in his tone. I raise an eyebrow. He knows I'm awaiting the end of the sentence. "… since they've had three showers already."

I prick up my ears, now listening to that background noise I had not paid attention to so far. Ah. Dick sure knows how to make her howl. Three times, he said? What's with the pain? I'll look away, pretend nothing's happening upstairs.

\- "Let's dine in the lounge, Alfred. And please, sit with us tonight. We need to gather as a family, more than ever.", I can't help but add, "They'll definitely catch up with us at some point."

I really want to get away from that sound. Tim and Damian are quietly reading in the living room. I join them. Today's newspaper must have come through the mail since Alfred placed it on my usual coffee table. I'll catch up with the world and have a glance at my company's stock market figures until the meal is ready.

Just as we're sitting down around the massive table, me at its head, the sweethearts deign to join us. Why do I feel the need to think ironically? Damn Bruce, gather yourself. She's glowing. This cute impish look on her face. Does she know? Well, I sorta kissed her earlier. Why did I do that already?

\- "Alfred!", she blurts, "Is that… the vegan pie?", in the most dramatic way.

\- "It is Miss.

\- My God, you're a treasure. When did you find time?

\- You did spend a lot of time gathering yourself Miss." Oh oh. She will get British now. Because that's how she responds to Alfred's sarcasm.

\- "Janey Mack, dowtcha boy, you know what's the craic about."

In her purest native accent, that makes us all laugh. I guess that's Esmeralda's super power, and why she was locked in that pit alongside all these mighty beings. If Alfred's one is to attend to Gotham's gotha needs, hers is to never let anyone feel down around her. Gosh, I've missed her. Maybe I should ask her to stay. No, Bruce, you're strong, you don't need her. You don't need anyone. And that's why… this table is surrounded with your extended family… Fool. Still. She got us out of Joker's trap. Where all super heroes failed. So she must have more than just a cheering-up ability.

\- "Esme…

\- I know Bruce. Yes. I will. I will try to explain."

I think the kids understood what we will talk about. A deep silence wraps us, she takes the time to finish her bite, lays her fork and inhales.

\- "Since everyone's up-to-date with about everything about me, that will save us a lot of time. We're amongst clever people here. So I'm sure you've noticed some shadowy lines in my story.

\- Is your brother still alive?" Of course, Damian had to speak up first. My son's crafty, but not necessarily subtle. The apple does not fall far from the tree.

\- "Ah, nice one Dam. I dunno about that. I guess he is. But he would have no way to know I'm… me.

\- The probability of an Irish-born woman named Esmeralda, about your age, dark-haired with bright green eyes, is not necessarily broad. And you're everywhere on TV.

\- Right. Yes. That is… correct." Did she never think about it? As a matter of fact, I never thought about it. Her brother was always a distant nightmare she was long released from. Not an immediate danger. "I guess I should look into that issue but, well, later.

\- The visions." Tim is ever so factual. No unnecessary words.

\- "Yes. Exactly. The visions." Everyone's attention is growing sharper now. "How did I know Mom and Dad got killed? And that Bruce was coming back? In a world where people grow scales, men run through time and women fly in the sky, having a 'deformity' would come as a surprise but not really as a demonization.

\- We're not here to judge you, miss Esmeralda.

\- Thank you Al." That did seem to soothe her. "Well, I've always had those… I dunno, sensations? This is not something I am conscious of. Or that I control. It just happens. When I was a child, confined in that cellar, I would… see… people.

\- Who?", I had to ask.

\- "For a long time, I thought they were projections of my brain. I was so young. But yet my intelligence had to develop fast so that I would not become accustomed to my life. My mind had to keep me aware what was happening to me was not okay. So it created, at least I thought it created, mirrors of my lost family. My Mom, my Dad, my brothers and sister. I couldn't know then. But Amy was missing.

\- Because she was not dead.", Dick steps in.

\- "Now I know." She gives him a sad look. But he smiles back and she seems to find her courage. I wish I could do that for her. "These… shapes were talking me through my surrounding, making me question it. Training my brain to think really. That's why I thought they were just manifestation of my intelligence at first. But, as I left the place, they stayed behind. And I didn't feel the need for some invisible presence to talk to for the next happy years I lived here." She's looking at me. My grin must be full of melancholy but it does the job. "The night of the murders, it felt like a door that had been shut for very long, suddenly cracked open with a gust of violent wind. And all the 'people' that were locked behind ran free around me. They were yelling, things I wouldn't hear, unintelligible words. And in the storm, I saw Mom and Dad. On the ground. In that alley. And I understood. I sent Alfred there, to care after Bruce. But when the house was empty, it got out of hand. Soon, these things were reaching out to the real world. And I felt their touch. They would grab at me, pull my flesh. Even project shadows on the walls. Okay, you'll hear me say it once: I got scared. As fuck. I was what? Ten years old. So I ran outside. They seemed not to follow me there. My brother wolves felt my distress I guess. Maybe I had called for them, I don't remember. But they came to me and, within their protection, I was able to fall asleep and get some rest. And this is why, Alfred, you found me on those steps. There was no need to make such a fuss about it." She's grinning at him. I can't believe she's going through that memory with a smirk on her face. Could I ever get that strong?

\- "If I may, Miss Esme, I'd like to apologize now for having shown concern for your health.

\- You silly. Of course I'm not cross with you." She sticks her tongue out. "Once Bruce and Alfred got home, all of this had receded. We got in together and there was no sign of intrusion or, well, let's call an egg an egg, supernatural activity. So I didn't bother mulling that over. I had other worries to attend." She's again looking at me. I know what she's referring to. At the time, I was a ball and chain. A bag of sadness and desperation. A depressed child. And she took care of me. Like a sister would to a brother. Or... Is she saying I prevented her from investigating? Is that a reproach? "Worries I gladly attended to be honest." Apparently not. "I think I was not ready to face that problem just yet. But when Bruce left. For his training. Shadows were growing longer. Literally. Things were moving in the dark. Sleep became a place of nightmares. Soon enough, I would wake up with fingers marks on my wrists or face. And it was time to find out what this was all about.

\- That's why you went back to the Lost Valley.", Tim punctuates.

\- "Indeed.

\- And you said you found nothing.

\- Nothing to relate to. Correct.

\- So why would you...

\- Have bothered specifying that trip in my tale?

\- You found the ghosts." Tim's eyes are widening now.

\- "We've got ourselves a clever one here. Yes, my 'projections' had stayed around the ruins. Which made me wonder if they were not attached to it, hence had been part of this world at some point. And I deduced the ghosts theory might make sense. Though I had no 'scientific' facts to rely it on.

\- Did they attack you?", Damian asks.

\- "No. But they did follow me back home. I was still wondering if my psyche was not responsible for these hallucinations. Nobody else around me would see anything. And most of times, I wouldn't either. But whenever I would really look, they would be right in front of me. It's hard to describe. It is like there are layers in my field of vision and they're standing in one of them. But one that doesn't quite superpose on the others. So when I pay attention to them, I squint. A bit like these 3D stereograms you know. Only, when I feel… vulnerable let's say, they jump to a closer layer, until they're upon me. And when that happens, for some reason, they're… not happy. It's like I'm being scolded for being weak. But at the same time, these, rare, very rare, times are when I am dying for some company. And, over the course of these years, in particular, I was.

\- But miss…

\- I know Alfred. You were there. All along, holding my hand. And that would keep them at bay. But really, nights were dreadful.

\- That's why you would spend so much time…

\- In the library yes. I would read throughout the night, while you slept, and sleep while you were striding around the house. But you know what they say about insomnia. That it is the key to the kingdom of wisdom. And it didn't take me long to figure out I could use this to my advantage. So I started experiencing. To vanquish my fear, I would talk to them. Taming them. After all, these were the things that kept me sane when I was going through horror as a baby. As I found a way to communicate with them, and again, it is hard to describe, like a precise wavelength I tune my mind up, I discovered they were all but threatening when I would come to them. And that is with their help that I deciphered my Mom's diary's enigma and found Amy.

\- And then, you did not need them anymore." I am starting to understand. She nods.

\- "As Amy fulfilled my life, I was not as much as looking at them. Which, again, makes me certain they're linked to my emotions and not just some sort of invisible beings that can hurt me at any time." I'm nodding now. "But then… her suicide invited them back. And she was amongst them now.

\- Is it why you stayed with her decaying body for so long?", Dick asks.

\- "No. That was pure derangement, caused by insufferable heartache. I'm not right in the head if you haven't noticed." Again with her cute smile. That woman's killing me. "What happens in the physical world does not relate to theirs in any other way than through my feelings. And what goes one way, doesn't go the other. So the despair of her loss let them invade my brain but they couldn't incite me to move her corpse around. But in the midst of the crazy house I was at that point, I saw that bright silhouette. I saw Bruce. And he was in the last plane, the one that was bringing him back. I dared think, to me, at the time." She takes a peek at me. I got it dammit. "So that woke me up alright. I did step out of the 'layer'. And back with the living. I did my best to burry this experience with my sister. Of course, I didn't want others to see my weakness. Because, to a brain like mine, dementia is the only weakness I can be frightened of. I didn't want to become like my brother. But I first and foremost wanted to put that behind. Fresh for a new beginning with Bruce. Aaaaand… Nope.

\- In the light of these elements, it does make a lot more sense you know." I feel the need to justify myself. I've been poked at a lot, between her story in the pit, and this discourse, she has pointed an accusing finger at me every time she could. But how did she expect me to know? She's being slightly unfair here. "My purpose was never to let you down. I might have been able to help if you had confided in me." Alfred's eyes are bouncing from me to her. He knows I'm right. He's not sure she's ready to hear it. I'm not sure either. She looks away. I won.

\- "I guess." She seems sad again. Dick places his hand on her lap and that immediately triggers her to beam. Wow. Fuck that guy. Bruce, he's your son, and your most loyal. So take the edge off. "Sorry." Did she just…? "They didn't come back for a while though. The way Bruce's return had snapped me out of it had been that effective. I think I built stronger barriers then. And for some time, work was occupying me enough that I didn't need them. Because, in the end, that's what it comes down to. After a while, despite Alfred and Dick's visits, I would feel pretty lonely. I started to go out, to involve myself into music stuff. But it was not enough. Actually, the process of writing songs was probably an inch closer to opening the door.

\- Is it why you called Eva's album 'The Open Door'?", he asks.

\- "Bingo." She rolls her eyes with amusement. "These past, say, five years, I learnt to live with them. If anything, I needed Amy. And Mom and Dad. One morning, they were there. And it felt reassuring.

\- And they would not be aggressive?", Dam insists.

\- "No. Your grandparents were never aggressive. Amy would, sometimes, scratch my wrists. To pass time while I was sleeping. And I would wake up with blood stains on my pillow. And whenever my stupid brain would mull over Bruce again, she would come forward, louder every time.

\- What was she saying to you?" This is important. I have to ask.

\- "Well, that I was being a fool or stupid. I dunno. Generally, she was out speaking what my inner brain was thinking. Guarding me from weakening.

\- And Mom and Dad?" She turns to Alfred. Almost asking for his permission. And keeps her gaze on him.

\- "We would have conversations. With Alfred sometimes." I give him a quizzical look but he lowers his eyes.

\- "It did feel like they were here.", he explains, "I am not the kind of man who relies on mysticism. But Miss Esmeralda appeared to have grabbed a reasonable approach to these visions. And the guidance they gave sounded well grounded.

\- You are not to blame yourself Alfred.", I reassure him.

\- "I dunno. I think I had found a balance in that… madness. Was it madness?" She's now addressing everybody. I think she's terrified that we could believe her crazy. I can see how Alfred's support was so important. And I know she is not mad. She made sense of the senseless. This woman is broken beyond repair and yet stands tall in the adversity life puts her through. The same supporting grin on our mouths gives her the answer she was hoping for.

\- "But it was taking a toll on you.", Dick reminded her.

\- "How do you know?", she frowns.

\- "Faolan, we've been spending a lot of time together these past years. A lot of nights too.", he says with a smirk. Insolent brat. "I saw the blood. On the sheets sure. But running from your nose too. Though you always tried to hide it.

\- Why didn't you…?

\- If you hid it, I don't see how you would have let me talk it over.

\- I… I'm sorry Dick." She looks at us in turn. "I'm sorry all of you." She lingers on me. One apology is far enough for today Esme. I know. "I understood I was merging with them gradually. The more I was hanging onto their layer, the more I was moving it towards me. I dunno how far this could have gone. If I could have messed up with our reality. But my brain was taking as much hits as they would take consistence.

\- They were becoming real?", I ask.

\- "I'm not sure. I think they were real all along. But I could hug Mom. Like really, feel her in my arms. Mom, Dad and Amy. It became an evidence. I think I put pieces of my soul in them and that made them more tangible than the rest.

\- Because there were others?

\- Oh there was… a whole world there Bruce. Like… a darker version of this one. This layer was filled with shapes and voices and faces and there was no fun in getting lost in there. Trust me.

\- I do." The way she raises her eyebrow proves she didn't expect me to let that slip. "So how did you use this to get us out of the pit?

\- Ah yeah. Back to the essential. Well, by the time I understood the Joker had centered his scheme around me, for some reason…

\- He fantasizes you.

\- But why? I never gave him any hint.

\- There's no point of asking why when it comes to the Joker, Esme.

\- I don't agree. This man is dangerously clever. He designs intricate traps to get what he wants, and makes sure you can trail him. You have to ask why.

\- His actions, yes. Not his intentions.

\- I'll accept that then." I can see she's not entirely convinced. But we both know that's another debate to postpone. "For now. But when I understood I was the reason you were all kept in there, I also deduced I was the key out. That's how these psychopaths work right? So as he went on and on about making me insane, I could hear Amy's sarcastic laugh you know. Mom touched my shoulder, right here, and whispered the words in my ear. That they had kept me from going insane all this time. That they would not fail me now. It was very confusing. I cannot help feeling they were my insanity but assess the fact that I had not turned into a female version of the Joker. As far as I know. So yeah. At that point, I felt confident I could not go insane. And from how easy it's been to convince the Clown of that, I think he already knew. Would that be why he chose me?

\- Maybe, but he also fantasizes you.

\- Fine." She's not happy about it. But it is true. One far better reason to keep her close from now on. "All this info tangled until it became coherent. If he wanted me to break lose and give in to insanity, I would have to get rid of my protection against it." The emotion is still raw. Her voice just shivered so slightly. "I had to make my angels fall. To burn them. I didn't know for sure the outcome of such an operation. To be honest, I didn't even know how to proceed. But no one could see them. Not even Superman. They were… something else. Something powerful. So I had a little faith." I'll have you swallow this back Pup. "And I burnt these pieces of my soul." The tear rolling on her skin leaves yet another scar. She brushes it away like scars don't matter. They matter to me. You should teach me. "I just opened that motherfucking door and yanked them back in. I think that's what produced that massive amount of energy and fucked the Joker's systems up. Maybe. I believe, in that split second, that they understood they were going back. Back far away. Far from me, far from us. So they tried to help one last time and got where none of us could, broke the computers down and opened that trapdoor. But that's not what drained me out. Shutting the door was the tough part. I pushed past my focus barrier on that one. And… Well I passed out, we got out and I am going on a second round of my favorite food in the world before all your selfish stomachs disregard mine."

She's plunging across the table to catch the last slice of pie. Damian could have easily outspeeded her, I know it for a fact, but he gladly lets her have that reward. And I think that gesture plays for a shared consent.

\- "Shall I bring the dessert then?

\- Oh my God Al, don't tell me you…

\- Vegan pains au lait, Miss.

\- Boys… I'm getting fat tonight. There's nothing you can do about it."

Once the laughters have faded and everyone has mucked in clearing the table, I dismiss Tim and Damian. I'll have to find an excuse for their long school absence tomorrow. I'll pretend we went on a surprise trip or something. After all, I'm the fickle billionaire around here. Oh the newspaper. I want to hand it back to Alfred. I push the kitchen door, only to come face to face with Dick looking all teary. I follow his gaze and find Esmeralda tenderly hugging Alfred who, on second glance, is actually shedding tears. I hear her speak softly.

\- "Yes Alfred, I will stay. I promise you. I will never leave this house again."

And Alfred is glowing. And the corners of my mouth curl up before I can do anything about it. I guess that's what I wanted then. Obviously, that's what I wanted. I've learnt, long ago, that I can and must count on others. Dick is the perfect personification of it. But she had always been something else. And as much as I hate and try to avoid it, I need her. She will stay. By my sides.

\- "I'll have your and Master Dick's belongings moved back here then."

Obviously. Obviously yes. C'mon Bruce, it's a good thing! He's your strongest ally, the kids love him. Why do you feel... so mixed about this? You know why. He's not the problem. You love that kid as your own blood. He grew up over and beyond all your expectations. But seeing them love each other? You know it'll hurt. Well, get over it big boy. Because that's the price to pay for your past mistakes and your future balance. So keep smiling. Make her understand that's what you want. Oh she saw it, don't you worry.

So that'll be interesting. I've come to sit back in my armchair, to read some more before getting a long and well deserved rest. Alfred busies himself around the laundry now, after having lit the fire in the hearth in front of me. And I hear Dick's voice.

\- "I've got to check my emails. Honestly, God knows what the circus has been about, not even talking about the show…

\- What? My show?", Esme purrs.

\- "Yes, your show Beautiful.", I hear they kiss. "I'll use the library's computer. Go to bed, I'll join you later on.

\- I will read just a bit and I'll go to bed yeah.

\- Don't wait for me.

\- Now that would be a waste." Here with the smooching again. "See you later Coilean."

She tip toes in and settles at the end of the sofa, just paces from me. I can feel her stare. I start by ignoring her. But she won't have it. After a short silence, she chimes in:

\- "The boys are sooooo cute. They asked me to kiss them goodnight.

\- The three of them?", she chooses to ignore that one. Better.

\- "Tim needs me to help him with some physics lesson he's not getting the hang of. For his MSc you know. Don't you help him sometimes?

\- I've neither the time nor your level of competence.

\- You have the level of parenthood that I don't, though." She smiles smugly. I don't even need to lift my eyes to see it. But she's growing impatient now, tapping her nails on the wooden armrest. Spit it already! "Bruce. Are we gonna address what happened in the car or not?" There you go. You shall have it.

\- "And how should we do that?" I am trying hard to look unimpressed. I don't want to throw drama in that fight since it's edgy enough by itself. I'll play it cool.

\- "Well, you need to tell me why you kissed me.

\- I was exhausted. I am exhausted for that matter. We all are. And I had just almost lost you. So…" I had almost lost you. And now that you're back, it's even clearer. Things are lighter when you're around. Like you take on some weight or something. I didn't ask for that. But it seems, you care after all. Maybe you never stopped caring.

\- "So what?" All these years at the head of Wayne Enterprises, you have done a marvelous job at respecting our parents' will. And mine. You kept my secret, heeded my decisions, even though they made you suffer. I will not lose you again.

\- "I guess I just let things happen. I'm deeply sorry, if that's what you want to hear." Ever.

\- "I want to hear the truth." Of course you do Pup. You've always been so honest. With everyone. But you did conceal your sister. From me. What were you afraid of really? "You know me too well to believe I'd be happy with that." She's right. "How almost losing me justifies such a kiss?" Now you're with Dick. And that's fine. Though it did confound me at first. It's just that you helped me raise him, if only for a short while. So there was this mother-son thing going on that made your couple seem bizarre to me. But I've seen you together. You pretty much make a lot of sense. And I will not, never, come between you.

\- "Seeing you crumbling down, falling unconscious and bleeding your brain out did leave me in a… shocked condition." It would go against my principles. So I will not as much as ask myself if I'd like to be with you, instead of Dick. Thus, what happened in that car was meaningless. That's what I will tell you. But tactfully this time. Not my area. But I do not want to scare or piss you off. I don't want you to walk away. Ever again.

\- "Why?

\- Esme… Because we grew up together. And we had this… hum, relation… bond going on." Careful now, cow boy. "And I realized, as I thought you were dying, hum…" The flames are making orange and black shadows dance over her features. Damn, she's beautiful. Stunningly fascinating. "… I can't live without you." Did I just blurt that out? Did she lead me to this? And that nightgown she's wearing. The shadows… It reminds me of that night in the cave. In the pool. Just hours before I left her to her fate. Alone.

\- "No less!" She's playing now. The game is on. Wait. What game? No, I don't want to flirt with her. Or do I? Well I shouldn't. Gather your shit Bruce, it's not heading the right way. Wear your mask.

\- "What did you expect? That the near death of my only childhood friend would leave me aloof?

\- I dunno. You're not exactly the wide emotional range type of guy. And that kiss… was very emotional.

\- I don't want to lose you ever again Pup. My way of showing this to you was most definitely inadequate and I apologize. Sincerely." I am convincing her. I can see. "I'm just immensely happy that our bond seems to have somehow survived.

\- Me too, Bruce. Me too. I honestly thought it was severed for good." Her smile now. The warmest. Warmer than this bloody fire underlining her curves and making her body so… indecently delightful. "But I'm not sure what to do about Dick. I hate holding secrets for him." Cold shower. "Amy was my big but only secret from you guys. And now, this is kinda annoying. I don't want to feel guilty just because he doesn't know. I mean, it's not like I kissed you back. I did slap you right away.

\- Oh you did yeah.

\- You deserved it." She's ever so cute when she does that challenging face.

\- "Well, it didn't hurt as much as the second.

\- You make it sound like I overreacted.

\- Ah ah, you did. But I did too. So we're even." She seems pleased with this outcome. But I have to focus on Richard now. "I'll talk to Dick. I understand your position. I respect him too much and he probably -

\- Overheard?"

I didn't see that coming. He's good! We're both startled and direct our gazes to the darkened corner of which his voice came out as he enters the firelight.

\- "Sneaking up on your girlfriend?", Esmeralda casually asks.

\- "Sneaking up on people is kind of what we do around here." I get to my feet.

\- "Son, I was going to…

\- I know.", he cuts me off, "Your talk was exhaustive." I shouldn't feel embarrassed but a part of me does. "I get it." He marks a short pause that feels like an hour to me. "Don't worry, I understand." He recovers his sly smile. And I'm left bewildered. My boy grew up so much. I knew he had but… Could he be really forgiving me? Wow. Way to go Bruce!

\- "What?", Esme stands up as well and she's now in the last angle of this triangle. I see it in her face that she's gonna say something silly. "You're not even gonna fight over me? Dang, that's not even fun!" She's so good at relaxing tensions. "I would have pulled you apart, putting myself in jeopardy between your punches…

\- You would have overdone it of course.", Dick comments.

\- "Of course." Can they do anything else than this smirk, seriously? "And that's why you love me hi hi." Chirpy chirps chirp.

\- "Have to admit."

So much for the restrained thoughts.


	6. Besmirched again

I was on patrol. Bludhaven is kinda safer these days. I'm on it. But with the Joker on the lose, Esmeralda missing, Bruce going frantic over it, Nightwing had to step in to secure Gotham's streets and clear the space for Batman to investigate. I wouldn't want to get in the way. She's only my girlfriend you know. The love of my life… Sometimes, Bruce can be such an ass. He shows a lot of compassion to victims. To strangers in general. But once you're part of his life and he trusts you, you'd better be strong and hold on. I wonder. Since he's slowly feeling remorse towards Esmeralda, will he ever put himself in my shoes and see what they're putting me through? Or am I supposed to be 'the man' all along? I almost hear Esme's voice going all 'That's sexist', ah ah. Maybe this ordeal will be the occasion to have a heart-to-heart. She's been gone for three weeks now. Three weeks of an empty bed. And I miss her terribly.

Seriously, I mean, how does the Clown do it? After the pit, Clark, oops, sorry, Supes - I think he doesn't know I've discovered his identity a while back - brought him back to Arkham. It's not like we've tested the place's impregnability a million times. It would be hard for me to get out, if not impossible. Batman succeeded last time he tried. But they were supposed to have filled the holes he uncovered. But this fool, he always finds a way. He talks his path through your mind. It's another level of cunning. Esme's right: he is clever. And the way she blasted his ass last time, plus his obsession of her, which I can't really bash since I'm totally into her myself, you didn't need to be Edward Nigma to guess he would target her as soon as he could. Now that she's happily back at the manor, she might have let her guards down. I should have been with her that evening. She had an interview at Jimmy Fallon. Customary. So customary I let her convince me to stay home to train the boys, 'because there is nothing to be afraid of, except Fallon's sweaty hands' she said. Her regular bodyguard would have done the job, if it was only a matter of pushing the hordes of fans back. Not that she would want him to. She's a very giving celebrity, if you ask me, and she makes sure all these people waiting hours to get a glimpse of her would go home with memories to tell. I find her unreasonable at times. But that's also her strength: taking it on herself that others won't be disappointed or hurt. And where Bruce would let me down, she never did. She always put me first. And now I failed her. The Joker must have simply blent in with the crowd, along with some of his men. Catching her when she got close to take a selfie. Just thinking of his dirty hands on her, it revolts me. I have my own vows and certain limits I abide by, but I dunno how far I would cross them if he breaks her. He'd better not. I tell ya.

So tonight, I was on patrol when Alfred rang in through my private bat-line. I had been busy kicking some asses. In every sense, of course. No news from Batman for hours at that point. Not that I worried. He's Batman. But we had been in close partnership through the case, at least virtually, to share intel and brainstorm leads. For the past weeks, I had heard Bruce's voice in my ear more often than Taylor Swift's on the radio. But his silence had been very long then. So when Alf called to let me know Bruce was home with Esme, I assumed he had found the Joker's lair and decided to go for it solo, probably judging I was too emotionally involved to fight judiciously. Fair enough. To be honest, I didn't even try to imagine what he could have done to her. She was safe. Bruce as well. I mean, there was nothing to worry too much about. Just flying home to hold her in my arms. It was over. Maybe the fact she had been bruised so much throughout her life led me to think she could not suffer anymore. Some sort of aegis fueled by fairness and justice. I can see now I am still so naive. So young. Though I hate being recalled.

As I somersaulted through my favorite entrance to the cave tunnels, I could already feel the heaviness of the atmosphere at the other end. I landed on the entresol, not even letting the metallic floor as much as resonate. No other Robins to be seen. Just Batman, soundly cradling a fainted Esmeralda, and Alfred, rigidly standing behind our sophisticated hospital bed, awaiting instructions.

\- "Take her to the lab and run a full medical examination.", Bruce said as he carefully laid her down. "Unless you're uncomfortable with it, be as thorough as you can." That seemed to mean more than I could grasp.

\- "It will be done. Thoroughly, Master Bruce." There was an untold but palpable tension.

I waited for Alfred to vanish in the secondary space beside the armory, driving the bed before him, and I dove to the ground, few paces from Bruce. He took his cowl down while I leant on to the console and crossed my arms over my chest. I was not sure I could play it smug here. I was missing info. So I had to ask.

\- "What did he do to her?"

Bruce had not prepared his answer. I could see it plain on his face. He looked... lost? Weird. I mean, it's his task to be acute. What could have unsettled him like that? I'm not without knowing the Joker's schemes are always worse but... What has he done this time? What has he done to her?

\- "He made me watch.", aaaand I get it. That nasty son of a bitch. I will skin him alive. Keeping her for so long wasn't enough hu? Did he torture her as well as rape her? Or was it all about making the Bat look as his protégé was being, yet again, molested? Gosh I'm so upset. I'm so fucking upset. I could explode. I gritted my teeth but I had too much to let out.

\- "Did the Police get him?"

Bruce punched the table so hard, he cracked the upper marble. That didn't even startle me. As if I was expecting it.

\- "No!", out of cheer rage, "How can you be so cool about th..." He must have seen the tear falling from my mask. I turned my face away ever so slightly. We just have a contrasting reaction to that burn. Nothing to be ashamed of. "Dick, I'm... Sorry.

\- Did you tell her?

\- I... She's far better with you than she'd ever be with me." What the hell is he talking about? I did not protect her either. Besides, I'm not sure she shares the concept.

\- "Again, did you tell her?

\- I don't..." Understand? You don't understand?

\- "Bruce. It's been more than three years and I know that every time she looks at me, she just sees a Bruce Wayne without the bad parts. I'm not fooling myself. Like you do. Like she does for that matter.

\- I don't believe that.

\- See? That's exactly why you should be together but aren't. Both in full denial.

\- Dick, she loves you.

\- I know. Just not... the way I hoped." I always carried it on me. The ring. Awaiting the best time and place to make my move. I took it out and stared at it for a while. It reminded me that the best time and place had not yet come around. Maybe for a good reason. "I planned to give her this you know. To make the dream last.

\- Dick...

\- I fear she might have said yes." I put it away. No need to rub salt on the wound. "I mended her I hope. But now... He broke her again.

\- And deeper I fear." We both reflected on that. But in his trail of thoughts, he came up with another lie. "That won't change anything for you two. I pro...

\- Please, just don't do this." He swallowed it back. "I know you. You would fight to death to honor a promise. But this one, that would be a stupid ass one.

\- Let me...

\- You want to help us?" So this is it. This is where I give her up. "Assume your role to her. After all this time. You made her go through hell and worse. I think she's proven she deserves you now.

\- That was never a matter of worth.

\- Wasn't it?

\- If one thing, I am the one not deserving her.

\- Gosh Bruce!" I could do nothing but gape at him. Standing right here in front of him, her boyfriend, his son, me. "And you think I do?" I worked so hard at making her accept we could be a thing. I believe we were a thing. Apparently he did as well. But since the pit, things started changing. She saw beyond the Bat, where I always knew her Bruce had gone hiding. I knew this day would come, when she would realize the only man she ever could have loved had not died some twenty years ago like she thought, but was just disguised. "You're unbelievable. She just wants to be with you. How is that so hard to figure, Mister Detective?

\- Tell me. If you knew being around you would make her unhappy, would you let her stay?

\- No. Of course not. But that's where you're plain wrong. Being around you wouldn't make her anything but complete. You're absolutely certain she cannot be fulfilled by the vigilante. But what facts do you lean that belief on?" Am I really talking him through a deduction? "Bruce, when was she happy?

\- I...

\- Answer, when was she happy?

\- When we were children. When our parents were around. And when she's with her wolves.

\- You wish for her to go feral?

\- No!

\- Then think! After your parents' death, was she really that miserable? Or was it you?

\- We were both...

\- Supporting each other. And was it all bad?

\- Of course not." I intensely glared at him. "But it was not fulfilling." Oh c'mon!

\- "Says who? Did she ever complain?

\- She doesn't complain when she hurts.

\- Oh yeah? Because since you've discarded her, she's not been complaining one second.

\- Dick, you were not there." Hold me, I will punch him.

\- "Aaaaand... Back to that. I know. I wasn't even born, mind you!" Esme had served me that one. Right before I kissed her for the first time. "You two are good at reminding me." And before I can prevent it, the memory of how I pinned her on that wall and kissed her with all I had flashed back. Only, this time, it hurt. I tried to brush it away but that disagreeable feeling of helplessness lingered. She was always in love with him, Dick. You knew it. You should never have taken it easy. "Listen, she should have had that conversation with you ages ago. She's been as... weak... no... fool as you are. But you'd better wake up soon.

\- Why?

\- Because you might miss your chance. Because you're hurting yourself. For too long. For nothing. You're hurting her. And you're both hurting me.

\- I didn't mean...

\- I know. I can handle." Can I? "So, will you consider?" I was asking my father to assess the possibility to date my girlfriend. I was pushing all my plans aside, forgetting about proposing her, letting go of the hope of a lifetime with her.

\- "I need time.

\- You've had plenty.

\- I'll consider." I knew he said it so abruptly to get rid of me. But also that speaking it out made him understand how much he wanted it.

\- "Good." For both of them. That was what I wanted, right? For them to be happy. Me, I will find my happiness elsewhere. They were meant for each other. Since before I was born, I've been told.

\- "What will you do?", he asked me.

\- "I'll make the most of that relationship, like I have so far. I know I will not lose her. She'll always be holding my hand. But she'll fathom.

\- How?

\- I'll make her." What's with the quizzical look? Are you so unimaginative? Or do you know so little about love? "I'll split up with her Bruce.

\- Maybe...

\- Don't worry, I'll take my time. And I'll be sure not to hurt her. But she'll gain consciousness."

Alfred walked in.

\- "Not too soon I should hope, Master Dick. She does need rest for the moment." He turned to Bruce. "Everything's in the report in the database, Master Bruce.

\- Thank you Alfred. How will she be?

\- We'll have to carry out a pregnancy test in a week, I'm afraid. But she will be fine.

\- As always." I added, throwing a knowing glance towards Bruce.


	7. Testimony

The morning after my... rape, well, for what I can recall, I woke up facing Richard. I had been heavily sedated, first by the Joker, and then when Bruce brought me back home. I hardly remembered perceiving Alfred's touch and the concern in his eyes, as he dug the needle in my forearm. Because what I needed was sleep, really.

We were in the peak of summer. Since one wall of my room is east-facing - I'm in the corner of the east wing - sun rays would come crawling through the curtains as early as 5.30. There was a thin veil of sun screening between us. It was like seeing him on another layer, like my ghosts, but a bright one. He was sound asleep. I must have been in something like a coma for the past twelve hours but the boys probably stayed up late, chasing the Clown. I hope they got him. Or maybe I don't. I'm scared at the idea they'll have to confront him. Not that he's stronger than them. But... Esme, don't let his lunacy scare you. He's hurt you. Bad. But don't let him win. I reached out my hand to traverse the light overlay and carefully laid my fingertips on the rim of his square jaw. His hushed breathing was soothing. I brushed his skin, left rough by his stubble, up to his temple where I swept a strand of black hair to clear his features for me to focus on. Such an angel face. My sweet Coilean. How weird that he looks so much like Bruce, when they don't share the blood. Dick's blue eyes are darker though. And his cute little nose is turned-up when the big man's ever so straight, despite the numerous fractures it suffered from. I pricked up my ears and distinguished two things: the house was asleep, and my brother wolves were restless. As tired as my boys were (and I'm including Alfred), the pack was equally agitated. I reluctantly withdrew from my boyfriend's handsomeness and rolled over to step out of bed. Someone had put me in Mom's nightgown. Good choice. Nights were very warm these days. But I felt naked right now. I grabbed my worn-out jeans Alfred hated so much but still managed to wash and iron once in a while and searched for some top around the room. My meticulous partner had tossed his undershirt on the floor. That will do. The feeling of the fabric against my nipples reminded me how liberating not wearing a bra is. That's something I didn't quite comprehend in my teenage years. Not having a woman around and having lived as a wolf, keeping some animality in me, it became a trademark I was proud of. I was lucky enough to bear humble-sized breasts so, anytime it wasn't necessary, I would drop the thing off. Dick's scent overwhelmed me as soon as I finished tucking the shirt in my trousers. It was twice too large for me obviously. But that gave me that hipster look every girl is going for at the moment. I also stole his hoody, while I was at it. Morning chill would never get me but hiding my face away seemed like a protection I could do with right now. This one was thrice too large. And it smelt of his musk.

I silently closed the door behind me and stealthily crossed the corridors, stairs and hallways to the house main gate, as a wolf would. As I stepped outside, I realized I was barefoot. And that was the best feeling in the world. The cold stone under my soles, and then the dirt, the blades of grass breaking through my toes. It didn't even take the alpha's howl to put me in the mood. I started running before the youngest's tail hair vanished in the bush. I am not sure words can truly transpose the freedom I feel when I go back to them. It's my off-switch. My brain goes blank. Well, not exactly blank but it stops pondering. Everyday worries become as inessential as the taste of this river water is to you right now. Running. Racing. Feeling the pain in my every muscle. The spines pushing through my flesh. The branches scratching my cheeks. The nastiness between my legs. I blinked and a tear escaped my eye. I don't wonder why I follow them. I just do. That's it. No wondering. Doing. But now I ask myself. Why did I follow them? I wanted to be with them. When I can get all the support and security in the world at home, surrounded by my family, I chose to escape. Calling for my roots? No. I wanted a mother. Yes, I was looking for a female. It makes sense now. What I'd been through, yet again, was something I'll have to live with. Maybe even accept. And no one at home could help me get over it, because they hopefully will never know. I couldn't expect a wolf, as female and motherly as she was, to take me through this grieving. But I think I needed to be mothered. I needed to be cuddled, to be pitied. And if there is one thing you won't find in a predator like the wolf, it is pity. When the pack took me in, I was a baby still. But a strong one. So hurt, nothing could hurt me more. Afraid of nothing. Only looking for a way to survive. The then alpha female didn't collect me by pity. She was young. She needed to prove her worth to the male. She collected me to add my strength to theirs, knowing that if I showed myself useless, I would be the next meal. Of course, we grew attached to each other. I was her cub as much as any other. I howled high and long the day she died. Her replacements were my sisters. But in the wild, as a female pass alpha, she becomes the Mother. That was what I had come after. All I got was a bloody scratch. Right across the eye. For once, I didn't even feel the ache. The growl took me by surprise and brought my humanness back to me. In that split second, I understood my mistake. If there is one place I should not show my weakness, it is here. That is why I grew up so harsh as a human. It took me twenty years or so to learn the difference, to let my emotions out. And I came strolling back here, hoping to share it with a group of wild animals. Well played half-witted moron!

I reconnected my brain only when I stood back on the porch. I scanned around, hoping to see my brothers, but they had stayed behind. They'd catch up eventually. I did notice Commissioner Gordon's car, parked on the alley. With all the attempts on my life lately, I knew that man's moustache gradient. Rather get that testimony over with then. I guessed he didn't want me to dwell on yesterday's events in a run down office in the downtown Police Hall. So he came here right away to save me the ride and the mulling. Good man. I hadn't even shut the heavy panel that I heard they were in the kitchen, on the left of the entrance. Gordon was concerned about my well-being and Bruce was lying about Batman dropping me off in the evening and Dick went on about how much sleep I needed. Sorry love, I'll have you perjure on that one. I appeared in the doorframe, launched an

\- "Good morning everyoooone!", and enjoyed watching their jaws unhinge. Only to grow suddenly self-conscious: I was barefoot, not wearing a bra, half covered in mud and...

\- "Your eye, miss Esme! What happened to your eye?", Alfred half screeched. Oh yeah, the boho.

\- "Oh that's nothing. I went on an errand with the pack." Only to catch a glimpse of me in the gleaming clean glass door of the kitchen cupboard and notice the left side of my face was coated with blood. "The alpha was not really welcoming."

Alfred was already on me with a wet towel, wiping the gruesome from my eyebrow.

\- "How so?", did Dick ask, genuinely curious.

\- "I forgot that hoping for support is a weakness in the wild. And weakness makes you eatable." I accompanied that of a smirk but I had worried them even more. I understood the panic that must have rolled over Dick when he woke up and didn't find me there. I'll have to apologize for that. The five of them must have called my name a thousand times for the past hour until Gordon showed up. My timing wasn't too bad but it would have been wiser to show up without a slashed forehead.

\- "Did you really need to go jogging in the open after yesterday?", Bruce can be so patronising at times.

\- "More than ever.", and I can respond smugly.

\- "Miss Wayne, I thought it preferable to come here to get your deposition. I'm sure having your family support and...

\- Not too much media attention. Sure Commissioner. Thank you, I appreciate your thoughtfulness." It assuredly would make for the headlines. Gotham's benefactor persecuted by the very one who wants it destroyed. Our previous encounters led to extensive press coverage already. Gordon pulled a recorder out of his mackintosh pocket and pressed its red button.

\- "Do you mind?

\- Please Commissioner, it will make everyone's life easier.

\- So could you, for the sake of this testimonial recording, present yourself?

\- Yes. So my full name is Esmeralda Lynn Wayne. Born on the 19th of February 1983 in the Irish county of Galway. Address: Wayne Manor, 3110 Cliff Drive, Gotham, GC 06386. Mobile: 310-404-2650. SSN: 386-27-9908. Wayne Enterprises CTO, ID 00-153-EW2.

\- That's... exhaustive.

\- Ah the importance of digits Commissioner." I like when I make him furrow his brow.

\- "Yes so you are in charge of new technologies at Wayne Enterprises, right?

\- Ah ah, you still don't get that right. But I guess you don't need the full job specs so, 'new technologies' will do." I see Bruce's amusement.

\- "You're also known as an artist.

\- In the music industry, yes. I'm a producer, publisher, concert promoter, writer and composer for the likes of Adele, Guetta or Rihanna, and go by the names of Sia and Mary Lee, amongst others, as a performer. And that's strictly confidential.

\- The fact that you go by several names?

\- As Evanescence's lead, I show my face. As Sia, I don't.

\- For purposes of?

\- Anti-recurrence and creativity." He stared. "Privacy.

\- Because you need to keep your identity secret?

\- Because I get noticed for the things I do. For Wayne Ent., for Eva. And I'm still bored. So I want to be able to carry on new projects without...

\- Drawing more attention than you already do?

\- Right.

\- Thank you." Not sure that was for trying to minimize my exposure, hence saving his forces some work, or just for the introduction. "So, miss Wayne, I will need you to comprehensively talk me through what happened these last three weeks." He glanced around, manifesting unease, and lingered on Tim and Damian. I was going to recount a rape tale and two boys, respectively 14 and 9 years old, were sitting right across the table. I, in turn, fixed my gaze on them until Tim's eyes met mine. That young man is clever. Very clever. Over plentiful collaborations - bat or university related - we developed a strong understanding of each other. I wouldn't dare say he looked up to me more than Bruce but, forsooth, I didn't need to speak much to convey ideas to him. So he figured out the question hanging in the air. He just nodded, ever so slightly, addressing me his acknowledgment and approval.

\- "I'm combatting taboos in this family, Commissioner. I have no secrets for any of the people in this room and do not wish to have any. Not anymore. Damian and Tim are mature enough to hear this.

\- Very well." He didn't agree but it was not his place to dispute it. "Let's start with the night you got abducted.

\- I was a guest on Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show that night. So I was at the NBC studio, where they film it.

\- As?

\- As Sia." He knew everything I had said so far but he needed all the info on the tape. "I was driven to NYC with my PA, well Sia's one, Natalie Maher, and two bodyguards. As usual.

\- You always surround yourself with private guards?

\- Since it is customary in the milieu, yes. And my previous misfortune encouraged me to do so. As you advised me yourself a while ago.

\- I should have been there as well.", Dick chipped in.

\- "I insisted he 'd stay home.", I countered. "It was routine, Commissioner. I left featherbrained.

\- Featherbrained?

\- I mean, I'd had troubles as myself because of my involvement in Gotham's overhaul. By my sister's suicide and Evanescence's target public, I did meet the wrong kind of fans while on tour, backstage autographs and selfies, you know. Sia had been fine until now. I always made it clear she was uncomfortable with fame and people respect her for that. So I gladly share some time with the crowd when I can, because they stay well-mannered.

\- And Mister Grayson here usually watches over you?" Now, I hate this. As if I need a chaperon. I'm not some feeble starlet, for Cthulhu's sake.

\- "Dick is my boyfriend. Officially. Everyone with an internet connexion can learn this and that Mary Lee is a pseudo for Esmeralda Wayne. But Dick is also Sia's choreography coordinator. That allows us to stay together yes. But I hired him because he's good at it. Not for escort.

\- I didn't mean...

\- I know. Sorry." I shouldn't be so hot-headed. "I just mean, I told Dick to stay here because it was supposed to be straight forward. I didn't want to waste his time. And to be honest, it wouldn't have prevented this from happening." I peeked at him and read the guilt off his brood. "Coilean. You couldn't have stopped it." Persuading him? Try again later.

\- "The Joker mingled with your fans?

\- Yes. Him and two other big guys. They snatched me when I got close for a selfie. You know, I have to prop myself against them to fit in the shot." He assented. "Well they dragged me behind the metal barriers and in a flash, we were behind the crowd, out of reach for my crew. They forced me into a van. A..." I tried to remember, pinching my radix. There's this cognitive neuro-method, argh, I know it. "Tim, how does it go?

\- Colour, brand, year..." Told you we don't need much exchange to communicate.

\- "Right. Green." The concept is to bring back the full image by glimpses or sensations. "It was green. Large. Cherokee?" I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yeah, 4x4. A Jeep. Cherokee Jeep with big tyres. 90s style. So... Laredo? The plate. I saw it. Super quick when they got me out.

\- It's okay if you can't remember, you know.", Gordon assured. "Usually, kidnapped victims don't take the time to gather evidence to...

\- ML-1511!" Did he think I was just another kidnapped victim?

\- "Oh wow. How do you even do that?

\- I wrote a thesis about cognitive neuroscience and how to bring back things you stored in the background of your brain through analytical memory. We're starting to experience it at Bludhaven's Police station. If it's fruitful, I guarantee you'll hear about it. It'd require training your men but the benefits could potentially be tremendous.

\- Never lose sight of work, do you?

\- No. And my boss's in the room. I'm trying to impress him.", Bruce chuckled on that one. Back to it. "You'll probably find nothing with that lead though. Be sure it was a stolen one or they destroyed it.

\- Well it's still somewhere to start.

\- They had tied a handkerchief around my head but I could see my feet you know. The ground was stony sand. Grey. Common around warehouses. Ah yes, it was a warehouse. Closed down. But not for long, the windows were still whole and strong. They marched me in and shoved me in a cage. Like a barred cube cloche. So I fell directly on the floor and they locked the door. They had placed it right under a skylight. So I've been able to count the days. There was a single metal bed, a toilet and a sink. Like, right there. In the middle of a huge room. A toilet and a sink.

\- You're saying, the kind of plumbing that would catch any honest laborer's attention?

\- I'm thinking, yes." The detective scratched his red goatee. That was two serious clues I gave him already. "I had four guards, at all times. One for each side of my cage. But they would never face me. I've tried everything to make them turn around. I talked to them, asked them things, faked an injury and even played dead. They never flinched. One would walk in backwards every three hours and replace another. I never saw a face.

\- Ever so cautious.

\- So for the first four days, nothing happened really. I would get standard hospital meals delivered through a pulley system and a hatch in the ceiling of my cage, thrice a day. The intimacy was non existent but since they would not move...

\- You were able to wash yourself?

\- I had the sink and a towel." That reminded me I wanted a shower so bad. A hot, very hot shower. "Then the Joker started pacing around the cage. He would approach and just scrutinize me for some time and leave. I didn't speak to him at first. I didn't want to fuel the drama of the whole situation. But after a week without human interaction, I started reaching out. I just said his name at first. He didn't respond. But the day after, we started chatting. Like old pals. I had no way to escape that scheme. Loneliness is pretty hard to subdue.

\- Nobody's blaming you, Esme." Of course, Dick had to reassure me.

\- "On the second week, he entered the cage. We would sit on the bed and talk. Or play. Boardgames. Card games. But we mostly talked.

\- What did you talk about?", the Commissioner asked.

\- "My life, the weather, Batman, politics, philosophy. Anything really. But, obviously, we never broached his former life. Or his plan. He still let me call him Jack.

\- How much did you open up?", I could hear in Bruce's tone that came from Batman's interest.

\- "We discussed my love life in the minutest detail but not further." I left that there, knowing 'further than my love life' meant virtually nothing to Gordon but the family would understand I didn't cross that line. I didn't reveal the big dossier. "He even gave me some advice.", I tried to sound amused. Because getting counsel for my affairs from the Joker, was an oddity. He had been unequivocal about that actually: I shouldn't be with Richard, I should be with Bruce. That's almost funny that Batman's worst enemy urges his love interest to be with him. In whatever sense you read that. But nobody was getting the joke. "We talked about Amy as well." Message across: he knows about my ghosts now. And how they worked. Or work. I felt something cold behind my back the other day and caught some movement in the cornier of my eye. "Well, I have to admit, those were ordinary friendly conversations.

\- That he might use against you?", Gordon enquired.

\- "I don't see what worse he could do really." He realized his tactlessness. I didn't leave him the opportunity to atone. "When Batman came to the rescue, an alarm got activated. Super loud. And in the confusion, I don't know from where or who, but I received a dart right across the thigh. In a matter of two minutes, I was knocked out. I don't know what dosage of what but it was super effective. Boom." I mimicked my fall with my hand, to accentuate my inability to act and react at the time. "I came round later, I dunno how long, but I was laying on the bed, the cage had been lifted up, and my head had dropped just at the right angle so that the first thing I saw was Batman, tied up, unable to move, with a pretty angry look about him. I tried to escape right away. I thought it would be my only chance. But only then did I realize the Clown was on me. I was handcuffed to the bed. At that moment, I was still in a haze. There was fog in my eyes and the world was spinning. But I heard his laugh. So close to my ears. I felt his hands all over me. I don't remember when he ripped my clothes but there was not much left covered. After his hands, I felt his tongue. He kissed me. No. it turned into licking pretty quick. My mouth. My ears. My neck." I instinctively took a hand to my trapezius, as if I still carried marks I could wipe with my fingers. "With his hands, he went between my legs." I almost heard them cringe. "He started fingering me. I kept my eyes closed as long as possible, because I knew there was nothing I could do. I felt dizzy from the drugging. And my brain was busy trying to process. But when he unzipped his trousers and penetrated me", I fought hard not to stumble. I am not ashamed of this. This is none of my doing, "I did look up. He had that fucking frozen grin and I swear, I wanted nothing more than to bite his pointy awful nose off. But my neck would not support my intentions. So my head tumbled back on the side and while he kept thrusting, I was left staring blankly at Batman. I felt his pain. And I think he felt mine." I focused on a wood knot in the table throughout my monologue. But I needed to peer at Bruce just now. I risked a quick one. He was very intent, hardly concealing his remembering, his hand into a stone fist, quivering.

\- "So Batman did not try to save you?" Gordon's question was innocent. And his intonation showed nothing but disbelief. He knew the Dark Knight too well to assume he would not have done everything in his power to deliver me. But Bruce. Bruce was upset. At himself. So I blocked him off before he could retort anything stupid.

\- "Batman was trussed up big time, Commissioner. And the wire was not only slicing through his outfit and skin, it was also anchored to the ground. After the shock of seeing the Joker step over yet another line, maybe the vacant look on my face, he started wriggling, pumped up all the muscles he has, and he has a lot. But the whole trap took ages to give way." I wanted to face Bruce, to tell him it was not his fault. But for one thing, I couldn't in front of Jim, and also we hadn't yet developed that relationship back. I was still burying my (hard) feelings from him.

\- "But he did manage?

\- By that time, the Joker had... finished himself." I couldn't help clearing my throat. "So he fled before Bats could get his fingers on him.

\- Did he run after him?

\- No.

\- No?

\- No, he... attended to me." Jim Gordon lowered his eyes. He knew he would have done the same. But this was inconvenient because the attacker ran away. "He scooped me up and I let myself phase out. I woke up this morning here." A silence settled. I could only imagine Bruce had expected the Police to go after the Clown. Or maybe he did not care at that point. That was quite a demonstration of affection, to be honest. Again. Did I have to count the number of times he had not been an asshole with me and pay him back for each? Or was it deserved refund after his failed comeback? I became aware I had been staring at him for a while now, trying to read off his visage. This would be an ordeal we'll have to share, just the two of us. Funny how I worried about his hopelessness when I was the first ranked victim. I hate being the martyr. I hate my past, I hate this, I hate Jack. The policeman snapped me out of it.

\- "I'll file this for legal procedure, I presume?

\- You presume right.

\- Good. I have everything I need. I'll leave you to the good care of your family. Dr. Pennyworth, I'll need your report for exhibit, if that's okay with you?

\- It is. I'll make sure it reaches you by tonight, Sir.

\- All good."

I walked him back to the main door, thanking him again for the trouble he went through to spare me the trip. As he treaded on the terrace, he spun around one last time.

\- "You'd better tend that scar, Miss Wayne.", he advised me.

\- "Scars heal, Commissioner.

\- Not all scars." I fathomed he meant psychological ones. But I disagreed.

\- "They all do. It takes only two things: hope and faith.

\- And what do you believe in, Miss Wayne?

\- Batman. Justice.

\- You make it sound like they're the same thing.

\- Are they not?"

He never answered. He turned away with a smirk and resumed gaining his car. I was locking the gate as Bruce met me there.

\- "So you're counting on me?" Overhearing is not prosecutable. Drawing the conclusion I need him neither. But I was happy with none of the two. Though the second was truer than I wanted to admit.

\- "That's not what I said. I said my scars will heal because I have faith in the Bat."

He moved closer and pierced me with a turquoise stare. Not sure what he was getting at, I raised an eyebrow. But his eyes loitered on the fore-mentioned wound. He brought his hand up to my chin, never detaching from my forehead, and whispered:

\- "And this is why we all exist."

He laid a light kiss on the cut. And all my walls broke down. I felt the flush come up my cheeks but it felt too good to hide. I have learnt my lesson. So I smiled back.


	8. Perfect break-up

I need to be swift.

I'm sure they're all there already. They must have been downtown. Not fair, I started from the manor. And I was delayed... I was the first Boy Wonder, I am the big brother. I can't answer the call last! Well, technically, Barbara's the oldest. And she's got more to prove than me. But, at least, let me not be the last.

And... I'm the last. Fuck. As if my evening had not started in the shittiest way possible...

\- "Growing old and slow, Nightwing?"

I'll make you eat that one in our next training session, Damian.

\- "Sorry Guys, I was... chatting with Esme." Now that Jason and Barbs met her, that she's officially a member of this family - though she always was I guess, I don't need to use metaphors anymore. Plus, I don't have obvious ones to portray her now. So Bruce is gonna scold me.

\- "Work before girlfriend. And no names.

\- Well, exactly. Since she's not my girlfriend anymore, I wasn't sure how to codename her."

I heard that pin drop. Call it a surprise. Happy Birthday Bruce #irony, obviously.

\- "But... You..."

C'mon Batgirl, don't dramatize.

\- "Nice!" Does Jason know how to _not_ sound condescending? "Do you mind if I ask her out?

\- You really can't show any respect, can you Hood?", Tim is always well-intentioned.

\- "It's not my fault you're too young for her, dude.

\- I won't always be, douche.

\- Hey!", assuming the big brother attitude, though they exchange some offensive gestures, I want to focus on the mission at hand, "What are we on to this time?"

I understand, from the lack of answer, that Bruce is not indifferent to the news I just released.

\- "Maybe. We should talk this over first.

\- You're scared it'd get in the way?" He nods. Cold. "It won't Batman. We're parting on good terms. We just... didn't see a way forward. There's nothing to add.

\- You seemed pretty happy to me." Of course, Tim, you idealize her. Not that there's much you're wrong about, she's close to everything a man could wish for. Well, men like us. But there's more to her. There's what she was before. Before we came around.

\- "She lied." I can't help but gloom.

\- "She lied to you?", Barbara asks, incredulous.

\- "No. She lied to herself." I catch Bruce's movement. He wants to interrupt me. But you were the one who asked for it, old man. I'm facing you now. "She's been in love with him since day one." He gives me the bat-squint. "The only reason we stayed together is that she's too proud to admit he's changed." And I give it back.

That exchange of stares goes on forever. And none of the others dares cutting us off. But he was always the bold one. And I was always the pacifier.

\- "She's all yours." I look down to the streets of Gotham. We had a wonderful evening out in that restaurant. We kissed in that alley. I rescued her from another maniac on that roof. We had a fit of giggles in that park. We made love in that apartment. "And I'm fine with that. Case closed." I turn my back on these memories. They're good memories. They always will be. And as I said, this relationship did not end on a sour note. I will share other joys with her. But I had to yield her to her past. One more day with her and I might have succumbed, given her that damn ring, even hoped she'd accept. I lean against the parapet Damian is sitting on and confront my crowd. If anyone has any comment, it is now or never. We all know I'm not gonna be willing to talk about it again. Though Jason might overlook that.

No one speaks up.

So Batman resumes.

\- "I've been on the trail of something big these past weeks. As crazy as it might sound, it looks like The Roman and Penguin have teamed up.

\- Falcone and Cobblepot? Seriously?", Tim asks for us all. Because it does sound improbable. These two have been stabbing each other in the back for decades.

\- "Penny-one? Did you cross-reference that data?" When you work with Batman, you have to get used hearing him blabber to himself like that. Of course, since he called us on that family mission, 'Penny-one' made sure to activate our earpieces so we could share info while on the field.

\- "Hum, I did." But this is not Alfred's voice. "Penny-one struggled with the pattern." My ex to the rescue. Great! "I dunno who encrypted that crap but he's either a genius or a full on cretin." With that choice of words, I can tell I drew her patience thin for tonight. "But it seconds your doubts. There's connivance.

\- What are you up to, thugs?", Batman mutters, peering through one of the warehouse windows. I only notice it now. Wow, you need to sharpen your attention, Grayson. The lights in the building are on and we can hear the machines rumble. It's eight past midnight. These guys' discretion is far from astute.

\- "So we're gonna work with the bohemian tonight?

\- Jason, you know, you can be a drag." And I might be a little touchy...

\- "Why, I just want to make sure everyone's happy with that.

\- I only jumped in because I heard Nightwing's buzz and Penny-one having a bad time." She's hesitant. "But I'll hand over to him now.

\- No, I need you on this." As the boss says... He certainly does. "You pinpointed their methods before any of us. You predicted their dispute. Did you see that coming?

\- Not really." Batman's silence means 'tell me more', we all know that. "I mean, that was always a possibility.

\- In a last resort scenario?

\- No. More in a much-money-Gotham-control scenario.

\- The Penguin's not the sorts who run for mayor.", Batgirl takes part.

\- "And certainly not if it requires putting aside his... business differences.", continues Tim.

\- "Obviously, they both have to benefit from this partnership.", Esme pieces it together for us, "Cobblepot wants the money. Falcone the stranglehold on Gotham. And they know, once they have that, they don't need to be friends. But joining forces would give them the firepower to...

\- Take us down?" Bruce doesn't care about dying. Of course, he avoids it (duh) but if it came to it, he would give his life without the slightest hesitation to save, even one random life. But that we could be targeted, as a whole, as a team, has always concerned him. That's the dilemma of the Bat-family: we rest upon our individual readiness to die for others ; but we wouldn't let any of us die for the others. Because of principles. Because of what the Batman instilled in each of us. That's probably why he summoned us all. He's worried.

\- "That doesn't make sense.", so now she's either trying to reassure him, or really drawing conclusions. "Getting rid of you lot, okay. But you keep each at bay from the other. Why unbalance something that works? No, there's automatically a puppeteer." Isn't there always? Pffff, I know what this means. We'll have to kick some asses to get to the minions to make them talk to collect clues to investigate to lead us to the big guy that Batman will want to tackle alone but we'll have to back him up anyway and... I know that job too well. And I still feel as much excitement as wariness. Despite the fact I broke up with my dream wife literally minutes ago, the prospect of fighting alongside them rejoices me. I guess that's why I keep on wearing those spandex. That and, it does grant me a fabulous ass...et on my opponent. Heh.

\- "How do we proceed?" Jason is showing interest now. As I mentioned, it's about kicking asses. He already grabbed his two automatics.

\- "I go in. I call you when it's clear." That little blood son brat.

\- "Robin, I don't think that's the spirit.", I mollify him.

\- "Nightwing's right." Thank you ex-hot-smart-and-nice-girlfriend. "There are 63 around the machines, 39 in the back courtyard shed and 12 patrolling. Oh and two dogs. Please don't kill the dogs.

\- No one gets killed tonight." Because he's Batman tadaaaa.

\- "It's really not fun hooking up with you.", Jason's contempt, again. Esmeralda retorts.

\- "As much as I don't mind your ways, Red Hood, since your number of kills is still pretty low -

\- Hey! Don't underestimate me.

\- Oh, I wouldn't. Still, it's a 1 to 20." How does she do that? "Jumping in together, you'll be done in 4 minutes, easy." Convincing the inconvincible.

\- "Challenge accepted.

\- Where are they?", Batman requests.

\- "Second floor, third window, south wall." These two sure are effective as a crime-fighting pair. Not that Alfred is any worse but they don't waste a syllable. It's impressive.

\- "Red Hood, I let you handle the garrison. Batgirl, stealth mode on the patrol. Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin, neutralize as many as possible inside until we catch up. Penny-B, any advice?

\- Careful with Carmine, he's trained in Japan, might even be able to protect himself. Also, Catwoman is stalking. I'll keep an eye and let you know if necessary. And... Penny-B? I thought we agreed on Agnes.

\- It sounds like 'anus'.

\- Fuck you, Hood.

\- Wasn't it Djal?", Damian questions.

\- "Djal is my software.

\- Derived from the name of a goat." Tim has done his research. When it's about her, I am certain he finds the curiosity. If he was older... And Jason. I'm sure he will ask her out. Unless Bruce doesn't waste any time but I believe he'll chicken out. He shows no bravery when it comes to his relationship with her. Fuck these guys. She was mine. For almost four years, I had the privilege to share her life and bed. I watched over her. As much as she watched over me maybe. But, though that never gave me any other rights than kissing her, all of her, in a sense that makes me worthier than any of them. And I'm growing annoyed at these thoughts. Grayson, focus. It hurts too much right now. Don't.

I stride head on to the void and jump. Hopefully that will help them concentrate on the mission. Damian is by my side as I land. So they're following. In the middle of my running, I hear my earpiece whizz. The bip. It means it's a private line, that only I can hear.

\- "Be careful Coilean."

Shit. I know she's just making sure our earlier conversation is not clouding my mind, but she's actually clouding my mind. I love her. I want her. I took the decision. I grasp the device and pull it out. It'll stay in my pocket while I kick these asses.

Four minutes. Easy. Just as she said.

By the time they catch up with us, there are only four left. They get so scared, the five Bat's spawns confronting them, that they drop their weapons and run for it. We let them. It's Gordon's job to find charges to lock people like them up. We all get an earful of screams, glass shattering, jaws unfastening and wood splintering coming down from the upstairs office Batman took on by himself. Ah, the sweet sound of teeth working loose. They seem to have fun up there. In a matter of seconds, the boss falls from the sky in an all bat-ly fashion, the Roman under one arm, the Penguin under the other. He throws them at our feet and releases his bat-grappel. I don't understand how they still think they can do something as conspicuous as forming an army within the city walls without us noticing and stopping them. Jason cracks his knuckles, Tim steps forward, Damian grabs Falcone's shirt and threatens him with a fist... We'll be home in an hour max.

* * *

53 minutes exactly. I feel on a schedule tonight! Barbara left us at Guypertot Square and we glided through the city skyline. From what I espied, Esme hanged up around that point too, not being needed anymore. She must have gone to bed: she's had a long night... As did I, as a matter of fact. Can't wait to slide under the covers myself. Shit. Which covers? Oh I'll have to sleep in my bedroom. Like... My childhood bedroom. All my stuff are in hers. I didn't sleep in there since I became Nightwing basically. And Jason is staying home, I gather. This case is bigger than we expected. We'll need to be collected and organised. And to stick together. Since this brother is a loner, we need to physically have him by our sides to achieve teamwork - let's not broach our efficiency here, thanks. It'll be nice anyway. To have them all around. But yeah, he took ownership of my bedroom when Bruce brought him along. So... Not sure where I'll end up sleeping actually. Not that there's a lack of guest rooms but... All I want for now is a shower. I wish she would join me. But I would not be who I am today if I went back on my decisions. I suspect we'll be fine from tomorrow morning and go back to a mother/son or brother/sister affinity. Something in the middle. Someone told me once that was my superpower: stay friends with my exes. Still, I think I'll drown this heartache in work and brotherly activities.

Damian can hardly keep his eyes open through his father's debriefing. So he dismisses us quickly and the usual race for the biggest bathroom ensues. That's the one between Bruce's and Esmeralda's bedrooms. It has a sort of Italian shower and a huge custom tub. I dunno why we always fight for it. I guess, as kids, we wanted to be closer to the 'parents', to be a bit like them, use their stuff, like kids do. It doesn't make much sense now but it's our way to show the others we're glad they're here. As boyish as it sounds. But I'm not really engaging tonight. I don't want to be that close to her. It would make the frustration greater. I cleanse my resentment, grief and sweat under a random scalding hot shower in the west wing and slump into the en-suite bed, customarily leaving my outfit on the floor. Sleep soon liberates me.

Only to force my eyes wide-open an hour later, at the most. I could swear she's next to me. Spend only a week with Esmeralda and you can be sure you'll hear her sleeptalking at least once. Live four years by her side and you'll know everything about it. It usually strikes when she's physically or mentally exhausted - which is, frankly, too often - but it gets real palpable when she's both. Problem with her is, you can't really talk about what she considers as a weakness, so you're left with finding ways to soothe her without her acknowledging. I'd go as far as saying Bruce is easier to speak with about his instabilities. It's not that she gets upset. But she dismisses the topic. You know. Denial. I recorded her, listed the occurrences, presented her with a fait accompli. I tried to speak the scientific language that she couldn't ignore. A bit before the Joker's pit events, her ghost activity had gone so bad that she would wake up in a pool of blood. OK, I might be exaggerating. Her nose and ears, each time, but also somewhere around her temples. It would run into her eyes and leave them bloodshot. And her wrists as well, on the worst nights. That left marks. She pretended she had scratched somewhere or gone too hard while exercising, I can't recall every dumb excuses she served me. At least the Clown's scheme helped us break the ice about that. But everything she said, in her nightmares, I'm the only guardian of it. It always starts with heavy breathing and stirring. She goes on calling her sister Amy, begging for mercy soon after. To the point where she cries out our names. I can't complain: she called mine most repeatedly than any other #misplacedpride. Bruce and Alfred had their fair share too. But I got woken up at the shout of Tim, Damian, even Jason, Barbara and Jim, a reasonable number of times. Through these, I had figured out most of what she described after we came back from the pit. I'm still unsure she realises the full extent of this bad dream thing though. After some experimenting, I came across my own ways to regain control over her nocturnal panic attacks. And right now, I think she could do with them. It's not that she's yelling so loud I hear her from the other side of the mansion. But I felt her in my own doze. As if... she was still needing me. I don't intend to let her down. Ever.

Before I know it, I'm straddling down the upstairs corridor and halting before her door. I hear her voice crystal clear, pleading forgiveness for some reason. I burst in, distressed by her last call for help. Bruce is standing at the foot of her bed, unfazed, vigilant. I ease my neck muscles, shut the door and join him on this watch. Of course, his room is adjacent. He must have come to check on her right away.

\- "How long is it going on?", I ask in a whisper.

\- "Fifteen minutes.", he replies at the same volume.

He looks very serene. I mean, I'm used to her relapses by now. And it still sorta scares me. Not apologizing but the girl sees dead people, for Bat's sake. Even if Bruce might have seen it before, I dunno, when they were children, he's not been exposed to it for some time. But he doesn't seem affected. Well, I can see he cares. He's here. And I'm the one who can read his unreadable glares: there's a hint of anxiety. But he remains poised. I'm guessing he's trying to channel his serenity to her.

\- "How often does this happen?", he questions, kenning I must have been here before.

\- "Depends on her work and emotional load. Several times a week. Between the tour and our... break-up, I should have seen it coming.

\- Is there anything we can do?" So he doesn't know.

\- "If it gets worse, yes."

I'm stopped in my tracks by Tim and Damian walking in.

\- "What's going on?", Damian inquires.

Jason pops his head through the other door, the one between my bedroom and this one. So, his bedroom now I guess.

\- "Is it still impossible to rest in this house?", he manages to articulate in the midst of his drowsiness.

\- "Keep your voices down.", Bruce orders, "Esme's having a nightmare, that's all."

We all remain silent for a while, observing her. From an outside view, it might seem kinda creepy, I'll grant you. But I can feel, I guess we all can, the ambient protectiveness settling. As her mumbling becomes stronger and harsher, her agony reaches us. She sounds hopeless, forlorn. I want to reach out so bad.

\- "No... No... Amy, please... Don't... No!"

I would already have appeased her by now, if I were sleeping next to her. But I was not... And she has to get used to it.

\- "Don't... Don't get closer... No! Don't get closer to my house!"

Now, that's unexpected. That's awfully specific for a conversation with her phantoms. Bruce turns to me. He has seen me twitch on that one. He frowns. That's him probing me. She pumps up the volume before I can feedback, startling us.

\- "I swear brother! Don't get any closer... If you hurt any one of them, I kill you. I swear!"

She's bending and twisting now, fighting the trance out. She wants to wake up. But I've tried that technique. It is _not_ the good one #nocomment.

\- "Amy?"

Ah, are we back to normal?

\- "Amy, what are you doing? Why are you on his side now? Amy?", oh oh, "Amy, what are you doing? No! Noooooo!"

The anguish of her tone tears my heart. I can't stand it. I might have chosen to split our duet up but I won't let her suffer like that in my vicinity. I rush forward, fall to the floor next to the bed, grab her thumb muscle between my own and my index, and press. Hard. Real hard.

\- "What are you doing?", Jason demands, full of disdain.

\- "I'm blocking the blood flow in her thumb.

\- Why?

\- It..." I look up, feeling almost ashamed for being the only one having that answer. "It takes her back one layer.

\- What are you rambling about?

\- The pain. If it's acute and located, it wakes her up just enough to pull her from the layer. You know.

\- The layer where she sees the ghosts?" Tim is following.

\- "Yes. Waking her up suddenly is really not working. Well, it works but it has... effects." I snort. Don't want to share that. "But a little sharp pain, like a pinch, or this, it recalls her to reality without waking her up."

As if to illustrate my words, Esmeralda is now relaxing. Actually, my method works so well she's back to breathing peacefully close to a slow snore. Bruce seems fascinated. I feel the need to challenge him a bit.

\- "You never found the trick?

\- She never had nightmares when we were children.

\- Oh she had." None of us had picked up on Alfred coming in. Silly. He makes us jump. I lose my grip on her, which was timely since her finger was already taking on a purple shade. "Just not when she was with you." He chimes with laughing eyes towards Bruce.

I can see the confusion on my father's face as our butler ambles to the bed and sits lightly next to his little girl.

\- "I used to squeeze her ear or pull her hair.", he addresses to me. I can tell the memory is as amusing as sour. I stay here, taking in that I'm not the only one sharing that much with Esmeralda. Not that I'm jealous. Who would be jealous of Alfred? But the stupefied look on Bruce's face doesn't let me forget what has just been said: Esmeralda didn't have nightmares when they shared their bed. I knew that they had. For all their childhood and early teenage years. Until he left basically. But I didn't realize what an influence he had on her. An influence that I could never dare hoping for. Which sustains the decision I took tonight.

\- "So... We're not gonna worry about her psychopathic brother stalking on us then?", attempts Tim.

\- "Why? You're afraid, scaredy-bat?", impeaches Jason. Oh these two are tiring. But I won't play my role now, I'm focused on her, and the truth about their bond is sinking in. Knowing its existence is one thing. Comprehending its significance, another. I'm back to brooding. So Bruce gathers himself to berate them.

\- "Enough, you two. We're not going to plan anything without more data. And tonight's been busy enough. We'll let her sleep now and talk with her tomorrow to agree if and what next step needs to be taken." Tim raises an eyebrow, obviously skeptical. "Tim, her brother doesn't pose a threat at the moment, I can assure you.

\- What do you base this assertion on exactly?

\- On the uncountable talks we had about him as kids." There's no countering that. Typical. "He's just a dark figure in the corner. He's dark yes. But he's just a figure. And for now, he's just in the corner." Tim pouts but lowers his eyes. If the chief says so, there's not much to add. "So you all go back to bed now."

Nobody discusses, fatigue has worn us all. Jason wordlessly slides back to his room, Tim and Damian drift to theirs, Alfred departs after gently caressing my ex-girlfriend's forehead and I slowly get to my feet to return to my nest. I freeze in the doorway and cast a last glance at the woman who could have been mine. I can't help but notice Bruce hasn't shifted a bit. I infer but need to ask.

\- "You're gonna stay, aren't you?"

He nods once, not going through the trouble of speaking it out or detaching his gaze from her. Tomorrow she'll wake up in his arms. Not that they'll have done anything. But that unbreakable tie is strengthening before my eyes. Soon enough, it'll be as if they've never really gone through all that growing up. They'll be happy. So I'll be too, right? Who knows.

I seal those scruples with the door behind me. That damn empty bed is appealing to me. Well I told him I would split up with her, didn't I? Done. Morpheus' arms will be the only ones holding me until morn. Falcone, Cobblepot, Bruce, Esme's brother, our perfect break-up... There's just too much to think about.


End file.
